Collide Repel Repeat
by WellI'mNotSteadyAtAll
Summary: A lot didn't turn out as planned for Santana, Rachel, Quinn and Brittany when they graduated from McKinley, but time is a healer and when fate brings them back together, they can do anything, right? Faberry/Brittana Pezberry friendship.
1. Prologue

Prologue:

"You're not the only one who's got their own dreams you know."

She stared at her, how could she have come back and expected it to be all the same?

"And you are most definitely not the only one who's had their fucking heart broken."

It had been months and she had received no word from the starlet. Was that how it worked? They just didn't exist for a few months, (perhaps in some cases, years) and when they got back the whole world revolved around them again?

"You're my best friend…"

"No. I was _Rachel's_ best friend; the one who wore argyle and hairbands, who screamed every time she saw Barbra Streisand on TV, who…who flinched when she saw a slushie. I loved her like my sister but you? No."

She shook her head as she watched her face fall.

"I…I don't even know who you are anymore."

Santana shut the door in an attempt to lock out the hurt but it did nothing. She sank to the floor and clutched her chest, as if she could hold what was left of her heart together. On the other side of the door she could almost feel Rachel doing the exact same thing.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One:

_Homes are made for hearts to rest,_

_When only hurt sleeps in your chest._

Rachel looked about the gym, spotting her dads in the back row waving like crazy. She smiled as her daddy filmed the whole thing while her dad dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief.

Today she was graduating and she was glad to see the back of High school and it's rollercoaster of hormones and its perilous halls. She was glad to wave away those people that had made her life a living hell for so long, but most of all she was excited to wave away Lima all together.

Rachel Berry was the exact opposite of everything a Lima Loser was to be described as; she was driven, possessed dreams and above all harboured a totally positive attitude to her future. So it was no surprise to anyone when she announced in Glee club that she was moving to New York to study at Julliard.

The only thing was; she wasn't. She may have been moving to New York, but she had decided against attending or auditioning for Julliard due to her realization that yes, even Rachel Berry needed a backup plan. So instead she had enrolled at NYU to study Law, English Language, Literature and other various academic subjects that would ensure her a steady future if her plan for stardom did not work.

None of the others knew this though, they were all under the impression she was moving to New York to become a young star through Julliard and work her way up to fame and fortune.

"Rachel Berry!"

She made her way up the steps and shook Principal Figgins' hand, ignoring the frenzy of snaps from her dads at the back of the hall. Beaming her usual Rachel Berry smile she took her seat on the other end of the stage, staring out across the sea of parents and families. She felt a tear fall silently down her cheek when her eyes fell on one Quinn Fabray.

The regret of never fully understanding a girl so complicated and perilously intriguing to Rachel overwhelmed her as she took in the form of the blonde whom sat quietly in contemplation. She wished, that just for once Quinn would meet her gaze, perhaps there would be forgiveness in Rachel's heart if she did, perhaps even a smile would work its way onto her face if only the blonde looked up. After all they had taken National's together, come through so much since the unfortunate baby gate scandal and Shelby's idea to adopt Beth.

But Quinn didn't look up and Rachel was left alone in her shy extension of silent comradeship.

Oh well, there was always the party later.

* * *

><p>"Hey San! Come dance!"<p>

Santana turned to see Brittany twirling her hips as the bass beat dropped. She smiled and shook her head, clutching the bottle of whisky in her hand.

"Nah, I'm gonna go find some space and gets my Jack Daniels on!" she replied and Brittany shrugged before pulling Mike from Tina's embrace.

Santana made her way to the porch of Puck's house, sitting perilously on the rail of the balcony before throwing the lid to the bottle away.

She sat thinking for a while as she took sips.

She and Brittany had broken up a few weeks back. It had taken so long to get together but it was for hardly any time at all, they were going to opposite ends of the country for college and they both knew neither of them was in a place to keep their relationship together. Santana was, as reminded, "like a lizard" and Brittany had such a misinformed guide to cheating that it was hopeless them trying to be in a long-distance committed relationship when they were so young.

"I hope you know you haven't done much to deserve me catching you if you fall off."

Santana turned as Quinn edged out onto the balcony.

"Hey there Tubbers, who said I'm gonna fall off?"

They both laughed and Quinn took the bottle from her friend.

"Hey, it would be nice to ask first. And careful, Puckerman's about…" the Latina joked and Quinn flipped the bird before stowing the bottle under a lawn chair.

"I'm hiding it, you've had enough."

Santana shrugged before turning to the dark streets and watching the night go by.

"You knew Britt would let you go." Quinn muttered quietly and Santana let out a long stream of air from her lungs. It wasn't a question but Santana could tell it wasn't a statement, it was a prompt. Prompts where the only way Quinn and Santana knew how to talk without screaming at each other before grudgingly opening up.

"I did it for the good of the relationship."

"Why?" the blonde pushed.

"Why do you have to ask?"

"I just wanted to talk about it…"

"You just wanted to talk about it…" Santana snorted. "Mind, you never were one for light conversation."

Quinn perched herself on the rail next to her friend.

"The way I see it, she's going out to Berkeley to do what she loves and I'm going to go and make my family proud as a law student." Santana shrugged.

"She loves you more."

"And you don't think I know that? Why else do you think I made her let me go? I'm bad news Q, she has a future!" she took a breath. "I'm not gonna sit here and say that it's not breaking my heart, but it's the right decision."

"You're being pig-headed…"

"And as usual you're interfering! I mean what the fuck Quinn!" Santana threw her hands in the air. "You've been interfering since day one! This whole fucking journey with Glee started with you interfering with Rachel and Finn."

Quinn just sat in stunned silence.

"Look where that got you Q. Heartbroken while Finn rides off into the Tennessee sunset and Rachel goes to live her dream. Do I even need to mention which of them you were _really_ in love with?"

Quinn felt the blow of seven years of hurt hit her right in the heart. The very vessel that had only been beating for the girl her best friend had mentioned in her tirade. She stood, unable to stomach the bitterness of Santana's regret in her own misguided life decisions.

"You're so fucking bitter Santana. And one day the bitterness in your heart is going to poison you and everything around you."

With that Quinn stalked away, grabbing the bottle of Jack Daniels and hoping that she would find Rachel somewhere with the pretence of strong liquor to stare at her as she dances.

"And that's how we do it in Lima Heights." Santana announced meekly to the dark front yard.

* * *

><p>"It's not much, but its home."<p>

Rachel nodded to the bare walls as the furniture was being moved in. Her dads looked around at the stained white paint and creaky floor.

"For now anyway." She added as Hiram played with his tape measure.

"Honey…" Leroy rolled his eyes as the smaller brunette man pushed his glasses up his nose. "For the last time, it's all gonna fit!"

"I know Lee, I know. I just…"

Hiram Berry turned from his husbands fond eyes to the scared facial expression on his daughters face.

"You're so old!" he managed to croak as Rachel looked back indignantly.

"Forgive me, but whom is it that keeps hair dye in the medicine cupboard to keep his locks looking youthful?"

Leroy rubbed his stubbled head.

"Agh, sorry darling that would be me." He grinned before pulling her into a hug. "But he's right you know. Last time we were in New York for more than a few days was when we came to meet Shelby."

Rachel acknowledged this.

"I guess I was just destined for New York then."

"Destined for the high life." Hiram corrected and looked her straight in the eye. "It's not too late to go to Juilliard. With your recommendations they'd bend over backwards…"

He silenced himself as a hand met the air before his face.

"Daddy." Rachel sighed. "You always say Berry's stick with their decisions; it's in the rulebook right? That's what I'm doing. I'm sticking to my decision. I need the back-up plan."

"It's also stated in the Berry rulebook that one should always succumb to her father's hugs!" Leroy chuckled and grabbed Rachel again, this time bringing Hiram along with them. They stayed like that for a few minutes; the older men wondering how many long moments of intervening life it would take for them to hug their little girl like that again.

* * *

><p>"So. I guess this is goodbye."<p>

Santana nodded as she dumped her last bag in the back of the van and turned to the three people she would not have been able to survive high school without.

"Well don't just stand there Lopez! Come here!"

Puck pulled her into a hug, crushing her body against his. She stiffened at the initial contact but relaxed into his musky scented chest as she remembered their history. They loved each other, no doubts were ever aired on that, but not because they had shared so many sexual encounters.

Their love had been misinterpreted then, but now Puck was Santana's certified _lesbro_, or at least that's how he referred to it. They were best friends in a way she and Quinn or even she and Brittany could never have been.

"I love you."

She surprised herself by saying it but was relieved when it came out in a muffled whisper against his black muscle tight vest. She felt him smile into her hair and a grunt came in reply, a noise of both acknowledgement and reciprocation.

Santana pulled back, tears in her eyes but only just. She egged them back with her thoughts and they obliged, the same couldn't be said for Puckerman. He stood, arms by his side that felt strangely empty, poised awkwardly after the hug, with tears falling silently on his cheeks. He shot her a cheeky grin and held out his hand.

She slapped it before they bumped fists and clicked their fingers in each other's faces, their secret handshake a salute for a rarely emotional Puck. Even though he was crying like a baby he was well composed and rocked the emotional look well. Santana vaguely wondered, somewhere hidden in the cacophony of thoughts that was her mind, why he wasn't going into acting like Sam and Mercedes were.

"Later Lopez."

"Peace out Puck."

It was a strange exchange to witness for the other two people waiting their turn for farewell, but Santana and Puck had been discreetly using those parting words for the last seven years since they met. He waved at her as he walked away, obviously unable to keep his composure as he got into his beaten out mustang. Santana peered down the length of her van and saw Lauren give her a grave nod. Santana returned it as Puck revved the engine as a parting salute before speeding out of the estate. She wondered if he could even see from all the tears.

"He took that well."

Santana turned to the blonde leaning on the side of the van.

"Yeah well, you know." Santana grimaced.

There was a moment of silence as Quinn bit her lip and looked at the ground.

"Q, listen about the party."

"Forgive and forget Santana."

She shrugged away from the van, folding her arms around herself and taking particular interest in her feet.

"But I should say I'm sorry." Santana frowned.

"And you have." Quinn shrugged. "The way I see it, you've made a decision. I had no right to judge you on it even if I think it's a terrible mistake…"

"Jeez thanks Q."

"But I'm not here to apologize. We aren't here to talk it out. This is a goodbye Santana. I'll call you sometimes when I'm drunk enough for us both to not be awkward and you'll come visit me to moan at how fat I'm getting when you come home for Christmas. But other than that we won't see each other for a while."

She stepped forward as Santana strangely felt tears welling up again.

"It's going to be weird though." She continued. "I've been with you at least six hours a day pretty much every day since kindergarten. We've been through a lot but we've been through it together…mostly."

They both laughed and Santana felt a tear spill over her cheek.

"So, good luck San." She pulled the raven haired beauty into a hug and Santana returned it full heartedly. She began to sob, not loudly or uncontrollably, but softly into the blonde's shoulder.

"And don't worry. I'll tell everyone you cried cause you're gonna miss our bitch fights. Who else will you take your frustration out on now huh?"

Santana let out a watery chuckle and leant back, kissing the blonde lightly on the forehead.

"I know we never do this. It's out of character and I'm really, really fucking uncomfortable right now Q. But I'm gonna miss you. I know it didn't need to be said but I did because I'm a reckless bad ass." She winked Quinn's protest away and whispered in her ear. "And I'll see to it we're both drunk when you call me, so it's not even half awkward."

"You're like one of those evil sisters, always evil, but always there." Quinn replied and they both laughed before pulling away from each other, leaving a few feet's breathing space. After countless years of friendship it had taken them all they had to be comfortable being that near each other for that amount of time. It was going to take them a while to even look at each other again without their ego's getting into fisticuffs again.

"So, I'll see you later." Quinn mumbled and walked away towards her car parked across the road.

"Bye Tubbers." Santana called and smiled when she got the finger in return.

"I'll wait in the car Brittany."

Quinn disappeared out of sight then behind the van and all Santana could do was stare at the floor.

"I still love you."

Santana's heart broke. Again. Again, again and again. Over and over.

"I still love you." She replied. The weird thing was, she had no tears for the girl, and her dark eyes were dry as she looked up into the blue ocean of serenity that were Brittany's own eyes.

"That's why I'm doing this. I want you to be happy."

Brittany nodded.

"I know. I would have been happier if we had tried the long distance thing…San." She trailed off and advanced but Santana stepped backward, unsure of whether it was her capacity for physical affection being overloaded or because of the guard on her heart rising up, most probably the latter.

"Britt I. Just." She was strangling herself.

"It's goodbye Santana, not farewell."

She blinked. At any moment of time Brittany could be all hazy and non sequitur, but really, right now?

"Uh…what?"

The blonde grinned at a familiar reaction.

"Goodbye is for when you're going to see someone again. When you're going on vacation, or won't see them for a while. Farewell is for when you're all sad and know you'll never see them again but pretend you will because you're going to miss them forever."

Santana sighed, knowing what Brittany meant but still not understanding the relevance. Goodbye was goodbye, either way the only time Santana would be seeing the girl again would be in her dreams…the dreams that already sunk her heart every night; that made her wake with tears on her pillow.

"This is goodbye San. Not farewell." The blonde repeated before pulling a ream of post-it notes out of the pocket of her leather jacket. She handed them to Santana and the darker girl looked at them.

"I don't understand."

Brittany took the first one and leant into the van, sticking it clearly in the middle of the steering wheel.

"It's like in Peter Pan. You know, where he thinks a thimble is a kiss?" Santana nods and Brittany continues. "Every one of those is a kiss, or a hug, or my hand to hold. On them are words that remind me of you and some that, you say, remind you of me."

Santana swallowed as Brittany smiled and pulled her into a hug.

The Latina just fell limp, lifeless. She held her breath so she wouldn't remember the smell, didn't hug back so she forgot what it was like to hold her in her arms. She was distancing herself from a girl that now had her cheek against her forehead.

Before long Brittany was gone and Santana heard a car horn.

The blonde sighed and smiled with a shrug.

"I better go." She turned and began to walk away before looking back over her shoulder. "Oh and Santana."

She turned to fully face her.

"Don't think I won't be calling. Quinn's pretty easily persuaded when she's drunk on Jack Daniels. I got your apartment number from her willingly. And I _will_ know if it gets changed."

Santana's body shook with silent and bitter laughter as the blonde blew a kiss before lowering herself fluently into the escalade that was Quinn's.

She waved half-heartedly as the car pulled around the corner. She jumped into her van and dropped the post-it's on the seat next to her. She could still smell Brittany on her skin and feel her breath on her cheek as she turned to the steering wheel.

She almost gasped, fresh tears escaping silently from her eyes as she stared.

There on a pale pink post-it, scrawled in the infamous scribble that was Brittany's handwriting was the word: _Home._

And once again, Santana wondered how Puck had even got halfway down the road without crashing from the tear-blurred vision.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

_And those that dare to leave a mark;_

_Are only flailing in the dark._

She stared herself down in the mirror that hung alone on a blank wall in her blank apartment. Rachel Berry (add gold star if you will) was feeling shiny despite her surroundings, the apprehension may have been strong within her heart but her stomach was stronger. She nodded in approval one last time at her reflection before taking leave.

The subway ride reminded Rachel of those awkward fumbling's with Finn back in High School that somehow passed as losing her virginity; short, sweaty and inevitably boring. She shook the memory from her mind, blocking out the way in which she and Finn agreed that just because they were unfinished business, they didn't need to pursue each other forever.

No, Rachel Berry had left Lima in a whirlwind void of regret, she was _never_ looking back.

The brunette diva climbed the stairs to her first class, waiting in bated breath as she opened the door, cursing herself for letting her punctuality fall beneath her vane perfectionism in her list of priorities.

"Ah, Rachel isn't it?" a wiry thin man asked from his desk, his whole frame clad in tweed. "Rachel Berry?"

"Uh, yes. Sorry I'm late…"

"You have _got_ to be kidding me right now."

Rachel's first reaction was to scream, her second to run as far away as possible. Thankfully, however tempting either option was she rendered them too embarrassing and settled with a blink and a swallow as her eyes travelled over the heads of the already assembled class, staring inquisitively at her.

But one of those faces wasn't inquisitive; it was shocked, angry and downright disgusted. One of those faces matched the voice that had taken Rachel back to before the summer, to before her success, to freshman year. She felt the remnants of countless slushies' slipping down her face and pooling in the bottom of her stomach.

* * *

><p>And there went Santana Lopez's fresh new start at life.<p>

Santana stared incredulously as the diva made her way through the maze of filled desks to the unmercifully empty one right beside her. It was common knowledge that Rachel Berry was to attend Juilliard after leaving Lima and though Kurt, Rachel _and_ Santana had taken college places in New York they were all pretty adamant in their minds they would never run in to each other accidentally or otherwise. She certainly wouldn't make it her business to seek Berry out through pure interest.

Yet here she sat, next to the girl in her Law class, ignoring the furious scribbling sound of pen against paper as the girl took notes.

So, the Latina had not been the nicest to Rachel in high school, but over the summer they had both grown up and grown up people like to be polite right? Wasn't it polite to say hello to someone when they said it to you?

"Berry!" Santana whispered harshly trying to get the girls attention. The diva looked up and stared like a deer caught in headlights.

"Why are you ignoring me?"

Rachel blinked slowly and opened her mouth to speak as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Why are you talking to me?" she shot back, avoiding her gaze.

"Yes, why are you talking?"

Rachel blushed and Santana rolled her eyes at their lecturer before muttering a sorry.

The rest of the hour passed without much interaction between the two girls, but Santana Lopez was going to be damned if she didn't try and get in a real conversation before hers or Rachel's next class begin.

"Hey!"

She grabbed the shorter girls hand as soon as they were in the corridor. Rachel stopped dead, stiffening as Santana just carried on walking, pulling her until she realized she was most definitely not going to move.

"What are you doing here Berry?" she asked as she turned. "I thought you were going to Juilliard."

Rachel nodded, her lips a tight line.

"So…again. Why are you here? Are you stalking me?

Rachel shook her head; her lips still a tight line.

"I don't think I've ever seen you this speechless."

At this the girl huffed and folded her arms.

"If you must know Santana, I decided against my plans for Juilliard. I need a back-up plan; I'm taking Law and various other subjects just in case."

Rolling her eyes and taking in the appearance of the girl standing opposite her.

"Well you're fucking stupid, you know that?"

Rachel opened and closed her mouth a few times.

"I resent that."

"It's true! Berry god…First, it's really weird you just turning up and me not actually having the insufferable need to strangle you, second, it's totally, totally weird you actually being here in the first place."

Rachel sighed.

"I can't believe I'm about to say this but, I feel the inexplicable need to explain this to you. God knows why considering our history but; I let out at four, we could grab a drink and I could explain?"

Santana pursed her lips.

Any other time she would have said no; or she'd rather like to think that. The truth was; Rachel was the first familiar face in what had become a very lonely world for Santana and try as she might find that hate for the girl, she couldn't bring herself to extinguish the comfort she had felt when the girl had settled herself next to her.

She likened it to when you drank hot chocolate. You hate it when you burn yourself on the first sip, but something about that burning, the slightly marred taste it leaves behind, without it the hot chocolate wouldn't be the same. Berry was that burning, the familiar sensation, a routine Santana felt like she could settle back into.

But even the routine was different, she surprisingly felt less hateful towards her this time round seeing her in a classroom. Whether it was the fact that Santana was extremely lonely or Rachel wasn't as bad as she thought in those young high school days, she actually wanted to hear the story of the girl's change of plan.

So she cocked a hip and arched and eyebrow.

"You're asking me out on a date?"

Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Believe it or not Santana, not everyone wants to 'tap' you. I for one do not; I simply offered a friendly conversation over a hot beverage. Take it or leave it, only god knows why I'm offering."

"Alright. I'll be there."

"Sesko's at half four? It's right around the block."

"Sounds fine to me."

"Fine."

"Fantastic." Santana added bluntly.

They nodded to themselves and stalked off in opposite directions before Rachel turned, her arms folded as she saw Santana walk away.

"San…Santana?" she faltered, calling out, wondering if the girl would actually turn back. She breathed a sigh of relief when she did.

"What?"

"It's nice to see a familiar face." Rachel admitted with a small smile.

Santana responded with one of her own. It was bitter, sad, broken. Even Rachel could tell a lot about what happened between Santana and her heart that summer, the heart slowly beating somewhere in the California sunshine with Brittany.

They rounded their separate corners and set off toward their other classes.

* * *

><p>"I'll be the first to admit I was shit scared when I saw you in that classroom."<p>

Santana almost choked on her coffee. So, Berry cursing was definitely new. They both laughed as the raven haired girl wiped her mouth.

"Actually…I was a little _apprehensive_ too."

Rachel frowned over her cup as she settled back into the chair.

"Elaborate?" she commanded.

Santana was still learning the ins and outs of Rachel's conversation patterns. She had never really engaged in a conversation with the girl longer than to ram a few insults down her throat so she had never learned that the smaller girl could indeed swear with gusto, or utter one word answers instead of reams of textual ramble.

"Well." She thought for a minute. "I was pretty sure you'd hate me, so it could have gone two ways. I slam you out of habit, or you slam me out of revenge."

"You were scared…really?" Rachel chuckled and Santana sipped her coffee, staring intently at her with amusement.

"What?"

"You, do remember when we placed twelfth at nationals…right?"

Santana nodded, one of her darker days she would admit, when her temper was so close to the surface it was an extreme effort to prevent it from surfacing every other second.

"Of course."

"I've seen what you're like when you're angry Santana, many a time. You really think I could _slam you_." She replied, using her fingers in the air to make the last words a quote.

Santana rolled her eyes.

"Oh please. No one can be as dramatic as you. You may not take me physically but your diatribe would floor me within the first paragraph!"

They both laughed and Rachel managed to splutter out:

"That sounded like the worst chat up line ever!"

They laughed some more before falling into a comfortable silence.

Santana watched as Rachel looked around the coffee shop, hugging her cup of lemon tea and looking somewhat forlorn. That was when Santana remembered why she so wanted to be having a conversation with this girl.

"So, what are you doing at NYU?"

"Oh." Rachel shrugged. "English Literature, language, Law as you know…"

"No, I mean what are you doing _there_?"

She watched Rachel process the intricacies of the question Santana had underlined.

"I know that everybody expected me to go to Juilliard and be on Broadway before the summer was out but…I don't know Santana. I lost faith."

"In music?"

"In myself." Rachel clarified before thoughtfully pressing on. "We won nationals twice, I got straight A's in all my classes but…I felt so unsafe. You know?"

Santana nodded, knowing exactly how she felt.

"Like all my plans were laid on the foundations of chance. Like I had no control over what happened in my future. So, I decided to pursue a more academic route for my studies. Let's face it, everyone will agree I know extremely well how to dance, sing _and_ act, I don't really need to be taught those things. I do, however, need a back-up plan. I decided law would be a suitable area to dive into due to my incredible talent for arguing."

"And defending." Santana replied. "You always know how to defend people when they need help. You even defended me a couple times. When I least deserved it."

They locked eyes and Santana tried to channel her apology through their gaze but, she knew it would only be a half-baked effort at something she had been willing herself to do for a long time.

"I'm sorry. I never meant those things I said, even though it's too late to take it back I'll try to make it up to you. But that's what they all say right?"

"I still find your apology, while effortlessly cliché, rather endearing and I'd prefer it if you continue."

Rachel smirked and Santana nodded, her lips pulling up in a grimace as she ventured on.

"I was dealing with things, personal things that had nothing to do with you. I'm a very inward person; I project most of my emotions into myself and hide it with anger and this bitchy façade that keeps me on top. Since I moved out here though…I realised after being alone for a while that I had become the very person I thought I hated. Nobody really knows me here; they look at me and tell me I'm hot, or cool, but never interesting, never outspoken, or intelligent, almost like I'm just a pretty face. And I hated that you Rachel, you got to be the interesting, intelligent, outspoken person." Santana sighed and smirked looking up. "And strictly off the record, you're not exactly ugly either."

They both chuckled and Rachel smiled benignly back.

"You've grown up." Her assessment was not new to Santana, she knew this. She had been the one accepting things in front of her for the past few months that she had always turned her back on or tried to block out.

"You're still short." She countered as Rachel rolled her eyes.

"And you're still a bitch."

They both burst out laughing and Rachel placed her cup upon the table between them.

"To be honest, I'd miss it. Though seeing you may have given me a heart attack and some premature grey hairs, I believe it's a good thing you and I have… _reconnected,_ for want of a better word."

Santana nodded and avoided eye contact as she replied.

"I've wanted to apologise ever since we left school, maybe even before that, but I didn't realise how important it was for me until I knew I'd never see anybody ever again."

"Well that was obviously a fairly inaccurate assumption due to the current circumstances."

They both laughed and Santana looked up.

"Here's the deal Rachel." She paused and licked her lips. "Seeing as we're both alone out here, I thought it would be uh…beneficial to maybe…"

"Have each other's backs?"

"Uh…yeah. That." Santana shifted awkwardly in her chair. She'd never admit to needing anyone, especially Rachel Berry, but, she did need company and someone to air her views to, or to throw iced drinks over.

"I think we'd be foolish to let our past get in the way of what could be a pleasurable relationship of non-loneliness." She replied and Santana chuckled at her careful wording of their new acquaintanceship.

"You…you aren't going to hug me…are you?" Santana asked slowly as Rachel shifted in her chair.

"God. I don't think either of us is ready for that yet."

Santana chuckled.

"I'm pretty much freaking out on the subway every day because of the human contact so…"

"Well it gets pretty crowded down in the stations." Rachel reasoned as she clasped her hands in her lap.

"No…it's not that, I'm fine with the fact it's lots of people. I just…"

Santana swallowed the emotion down as Rachel just looked on, sympathy rolling off her in waves.

"Go ahead. I may talk a lot but I'm really a good listener. Really." She assured the girl and Santana looked away.

"It's the fact that people are touching me, hands on shoulders, arms around backs, shoulders bumping chests…but it's not her, I can't even, not even begin to…because it's not her…" Santana whispered brokenly and Rachel nodded.

"I'm sorry. We've spoken to each other properly without major insult for the first time pretty much ever and now I'm making you play therapist." Santana choked out, the tears barely even forming due to the lack of physical strength she only just managed to possess.

Rachel whipped a tissue from her bag and handed it to the girl. As Santana took the white haven though, Rachel's fingers tightened around hers. Santana looked up, staring with shock, hurt and fright in her eyes. The other girl just stared at her with determined concentration.

After a few seconds of rapid breathing, Santana's chest began to rise and fall normally again. Her eyes settled back into a comfortable position, not so wide after the shock of the contact. When Rachel noticed she was less wary, she gave her a tentative smile that was surprisingly returned, but only minimally.

Rachel let Santana's hand drop with the tissue, where it fell to her lap.

"See, not so bad huh?"

Santana shrugged slowly, staring into the space beside Rachel's head.

Whenever she touched someone, all she could think about was how Brittany had once touched her there, and over here, and just below there, and right on the back there…but with Rachel?

She felt serene and undisturbed comfort for the first time since coming to New York.

"I guess not. Thanks." She replied quietly as she folded the tissue in awkward hands.

Rachel settled back into her chair again and watched her.

"It'll get better Santana. You miss someone when you remember all the things you previously owned but no longer have. That negativity can kill a person." Rachel grimaced before continuing. "Instead, think of the things you used to have, and how sure you are you'll have them again."

"But isn't that just wishful thinking?" Santana asked and Rachel shrugged.

"Some may say that. I however, perceive it to be motivational." She smiled and inclined her head as she looked straight into the other pair of brown eyes. "It will be okay."

Santana knew Rachel was trying to convince herself the very same things, but she was adamant no one believed the girl's wisdom more than she did in that moment.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

_We work well, you and I, us two,_

_A hand to hold, a face we knew._

The weeks went on and soon Rachel found herself strolling in Central Park, the leaves falling gracefully about her as autumn gave way to winter. She would walk there every afternoon, from her apartment towards nothing but calm and collected thoughts.

Today though, she was not alone.

Santana strolled beside her, hands in pockets, her air of nonchalance mixing in severe juxtaposition to the fact that every time someone got too near, she would flinch or the muscles in her neck would tighten.

Rachel and Santana were becoming closer every day. What had started off as pure need for any type of company became an understanding and appreciation of who they both actually were. Underneath the history and false assumptions they had made of each other, were two very intricate people and both of them were immersing themselves in the new personalities they were able to pin to the very familiar face.

So they had gone from mere acquaintances to what seemed like steady friends in just about two and a half months. If that wasn't progress from six months prior, Rachel had no idea what was.

"You okay?" Rachel asked as they made their way over the bridge, seeing her friend pull back a couple of steps as a young boy nearly collided with her knees.

"Fine." Santana replied stonily as they stopped to look down into the water below.

Smirking at her obviously amazing observational skills, Rachel determined that her friend's answer not good enough and slowly linked her fingers into Santana's.

"See. Now you're fine." Rachel smiled as she watched the tension slowly seep out of the raven haired girl.

"Ugh. I don't know what it is Berry. I'm totes not gay for you but…you relax me."

Rachel smiled.

"And I'm _totes_ not gay for you Santana, but I think it's because you trust me, and I you." She replied, mocking the girl's choice of words.

"It's weird." Santana mumbled. "You saying that. After everything I did to you."

"You've already apologized. It's in the past; Hakuna Matata. Right?"

Santana's face crumpled into confusion.

"What?"

Rachel dropped her hand immediately, spinning to face her.

"Hakuna Matata, The Lion King? Please…please tell me you have seen it."

Santana looked thoughtful for a second.

"Brittany tried to get me to watch it loads but I never got round to it so she watched it with my little sister."

Rachel made a noise of disgust mingled with glee.

"I can't believe that! Oh Santana, you'd love it. I swear. Come on!"

She grabbed the taller girls hand and tore off in the direction of her apartment.

"Wait! Where are we going?" Santana gasped as she was pulled along. "Hey, crazy hobbit!"

Rachel slowed down and fixed her hair.

"Sorry, I just got really excited…it's one of the best Disney musicals and apart from Barbra and veganism, it's my ultimate passion."

Santana rolled her eyes.

"Over argyle and coloured tights too…"

Rachel pushed her lightly before grabbing her hand and dousing her in comfort again.

"Rach…" Santana began and Rachel gave her a strange look. "What?"

"Nothing, just not the most inventive nickname you've ever given me."

Santana smirked.

"Fine, Titch."

"What were you going to say Santana?" Rachel ignored the new nickname as they came out the other side of Central Park.

"It's just that…people keep looking at us like we're dating."

"You wish." Rachel laughed and Santana chuckled. "Let them. I don't mind, because I know that were I to date you the world would have to be ending."

"Hey! Watch it half pint." The taller girl joked and Rachel shrugged as they rounded the corner into the block her apartment resided on.

"You know it's true though. And you would never date me, not just because I wouldn't let you, but because I'm so not your type."

"Well, you are pretty straight, there's that to it." Santana regarded Rachel's poker face at this statement and filed it away for further examination later before continuing.

"The height difference would be problematic I agree." Santana chuckled as Rachel slid her pass key over the console of her building's door. "Want me to give you a boost there?" She added for effect and Rachel just shot her a deadly look before entering.

"But it's not just that Rach." Santana continued as they got into the elevator. "I mean, everything with Brittany is still too sore but, I think you could be one of those people in my life that change me, I wouldn't want to ruin that."

She stared at her friend's reflection in the mirror-like panels of the elevator door.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be so full on." Santana chastised herself out loud and Rachel shook her head.

"No. This friendship we're working on here, it's relying on being truthful and accepting. I'm trying to help you be more open physically and emotionally while you are aiding me in my quest to become more aware of how annoying I really am."

"You're not annoying!" Santana fired back without thinking. After Rachel shot her a look she rolled her eyes. "Okay, so you are annoying. Where I used to find it really hard to deal with, I'm starting to think it's quite endearing, once you get past the incessant babbling."

Rachel laughed with her as they elevator came to a stop. They stepped out and made their way along the hallway.

"I don't know whether you've realized, but your vocabulary is widening slightly, as is your own tendency to babble Ms Lopez."

"Ugh. I hang around you too much."

"Fine; go home."

"No!" Santana caught herself before she begged for the company back.

Rachel saw this, once again glimpsing under the façade that broken and slowly healing girl Santana really was. She took it upon herself once again to try and heal that shadow back into a full silhouette.

"Well, come on, I don't bite."

She opened the door and Santana sighed before following her friend inside.

* * *

><p>"Wow. Sounds like you're having a ball." Quinn murmured through the phone and Santana reclined on her bed, looking out her window at the moonlight, thinking that Quinn was looking at that moon. Somewhere in the west, Brittany was sharing the same sky…<p>

"Yeah. I just decided I'd try seeing it, Britt always wanted me too." She shrugged in reply.

Santana and Quinn had been in contact ever since she left to move in to her new apartment. When Santana and Rachel had reconnected she had kept it a secret from Quinn, choosing to keep her from her heartbreak.

Quinn had of course, never admitted to being in love with Rachel, but it was obvious in the things she said alone, the things she did secretly for the other girl, the emotions she only let show occasionally to Santana.

It was not worth subjecting Quinn to the information. No good would come of it, their phone conversations would become a burden with Santana trying not to rub her friendship with Rachel in her face while Quinn asked for every detail of the small diva's life.

"You are coming back for Christmas…right?"

"Shit Q, that's months away…"

"Two months Santana!"

"Exactly _months._"

They fell into silence before Quinn exhaled sharply.

"Well, are you or not?"

"Of course I am. Tell my mami next time you see her that I'll be coming back on the fourteenth."

She heard Quinn huff once more.

"Jesus Q. Are you asthmatic all of a sudden?"

"I just think that maybe you should call her instead of having me pass on messages."

"You know, I call and no one ever answers, they're always so busy with Anthon and Julian."

Santana heard the sincerity in Quinn's breath.

"Okay, I'll tell her."

"Thanks Q."

"I've gotta go San, they're counting on me picking up an extra shift today."

"Sure thing Tubbers."

"Bye."

The line went dead and Santana threw the phone upon the mattress beside her, thinking deep thoughts about her family.

* * *

><p>"Ugh, I'll be back in a minute."<p>

Santana hopped up from the couch as Rachel sipped her iced tea. The door had been buzzed for the third time that evening, there was a flood on the lower levels of the laundry rooms and Santana had to be prepared in case they needed to leave the building, so every now and then a maintenance man would be at the door.

As she watched the Latina leave the room, her eyes fell on the small cell phone left on the table beside Santana's own glass of water. She stared at it with a hard expression.

"Hey, Rach. I just need to go down and fill out a damage form. You okay to wait here, right?" Santana poked her head around the corner by the front door and Rachel nodded.

"Yeah, sure."

Santana rolled her eyes and smirked as she pulled her shoes on, leaving the apartment.

To this day she had no idea why she did it, why she felt she needed to reach across and grab the phone. But she did. For years she would argue that it was fate to pick up that phone and scroll through Santana personal texts and messages, but she really had a motive for even thinking about it in the first place.

Nevertheless, she leant slowly across the small sofa and picked the silver phone up, sliding it open as she placed her mug next to Santana's water.

After a few minutes of trying to work it out, she finally came to Santana's inbox.

**12:47 Q: **_It's still weird to think you're living in the same city as Rachel. Are you sure you haven't seen her on the subway at least once?_

**12:52 You: **No.

**12:54 Q: **_So, you've never run into her in Central Park or anything? : P_

**12:59 You: **If you're so obsessed Q, come and find her yourself.

**13: 03****Q**_**: **__I just wondered, sorry._

**13:42 You: **It's fine, sorry was in class.

**17: 36****Q**_**: **__I saw your mom today at the corner store, she was with Sara. Little S has grown about three inches I swear!_

**17:38 You: **She takes after me. You did tell her about the fourteenth right?

**17:40 Q: **_Of course I told her. Your Mami says you're going to have to sleep on the pull out, Ant and Jules have separate bedrooms now, you know, to avoid conflict._

Rachel stared, confused at Quinn's sudden interest in herself. She learnt two things from those texts, one obviously being that Santana had most definitely not told Quinn about their newly formed friendship and the other; that Quinn must have still been in Lima. Wasn't she supposed to be taking a scholarship somewhere?

She carried on scrolling through the texts, Santana's replies short but not necessarily sweet when it came to questions about her. She was obviously keeping their friendship from Quinn for a good reason. Well, the blonde _did_ hate her; it was probably a good idea to keep it a secret from her in case she lost Quinn as a friend.

The brunette stopped fast in her scrolling though when she got to a stream of texts where no reply was apparent.

**5:06 Britt: **_Hey, look San I know it's early and I still haven't called your apartment but, text me back if you haven't changed your number. I've forgotten what that pasta I liked is called and I need it for some friends tonight. Xxx_

**10:43 Britt: **_Hey, sorry I texted you so early this morning, but I really need the name of that pasta, I think it was something like tag your telly? Xxx_

**11:12 Britt: **_San, I know you're awake now at least. I really need that pasta name…*pouty face* xxx_

**12:01 Britt: **_Okay, so either you really have changed your number or you're ignoring me. I think it's the last one. Don't worry I got the right pasta by the way. X_

**18:29 Britt: **_San, please talk to me I miss you. Please talk to me._

**19:57 Britt: **_Well, my friends are here to I'll text you later. Let me know if you want me to call you're apartment. Love you xxx_

Rachel stared down at the last two words of the most recent text.

That was why Santana was having such a hard time, because Brittany hadn't realized yet that every time she tried to inspire a response from Santana she was just pushing her back into her shell.

But it wasn't Brittany's fault, not at all. She was a happy-go-lucky soul and was trying to keep Santana up to date so she didn't miss her at the opposite end of the country. Santana must not have seen it like that.

Rachel, being Rachel (of course), decided something needed to be done.

Checking to see if Santana was going to be re-entering the apartment any time soon, she quickly got out her own phone, copying Brittany's number and saving it.

She stared at Quinn's number, contemplating taking that as well, just in case anything happened to Santana and no one else could call her best friend. She thought it over and over, coming to a decision. However, before she could actually take the number down, Santana's phone began ringing.

Looking down at it in horror in her hand, Rachel's eyes almost popped out of her skull. Quinn's icon was flashing and the number was full on the screen. In her shock and haste to be rid of the phone, Rachel moved her hand away from her face, accidentally picking the call up as she threw the phone onto the cushions.

"_Santana…San?" _Rachel could hear from the other side of the sofa where she sat staring in terror at the small metal object.

She reached over delicately, hoping Quinn would put the phone down before she had to, but as she grabbed the phone she fell over the back of the sofa.

"Agh! What the…shit!" she gasped and sat up on the floor, the cushions all around her.

"_Rachel…Ra, Rachel is that you?"_

Panicking Rachel stared at the phone forgetting her plan to hang up, before putting the phone to her ear.

"Ummm…Quinn?"

"Rachel, what the fuck is going on? Why have you got S's cell?" Quinn sounded shocked and almost angry at the other end of the phone.

"Don't tell Santana!" Rachel shrieked and put the phone down, throwing it on to the coffee table, pushing it even farther away from her as though it was contaminated.

She looked around the room from her perch on the floor. Cushions were strewn everywhere and the blanket that had been on the back of the sofa now lay tangled in Rachel's legs.

Shaking her head clear she attempted to get up, only tripping herself up again in the blanket.

"What the…" Santana stifled a laugh as she came in through the door, kicking her shoes off.

"I fell." Rachel replied, half scared she was going to notice she had rifled through her phone, half gritting her teeth through the pain and embarrassment.

"I noticed." Santana smirked and moved forward, pulling her up and removing the blankets from her legs.

"Thanks." Rachel sighed as they put the cushions back on the sofa. They settled down and Santana let out a breath.

"So, apart from you playing acrobat, anything else interesting happen while I was gone?" she inquired innocently, no inkling of how guilty Rachel actually felt.

Rachel however, gulped.

"Umm, no nothing. No one called or anything…because usually you think people would call around this time at night, I know my dad's do, every night…sometimes." She mumbled and Santana nodded.

"Quinn was supposed to call me." Santana shrugged. "Ah well, probably busy praying or some shit."

She laughed and Rachel joined in, not forced but unnaturally.

Santana eyed her curiously.

"Are you okay?"

Rachel nodded, draining her glass of Ice Tea before standing up.

"I should be off, you know. Class tomorrow." She smiled and Santana inclined her head as she patted it, walking past the back of the sofa. "I'll see myself out."

Rachel grabbed her coat and slipped her shoes on as Santana watched, playing with the edge of her own glass.

"Q doesn't know about you." Santana admitted and Rachel shrugged.

"Why should she?" Rachel wound her scarf around her neck. "I can understand if you want to keep me a secret. I know it's hard having me as a friend when your best friend hates me…right?"

Then Santana was up off the sofa, turning Rachel around with her hands, keeping them upon her shoulders.

"Don't be stupid Rach. It's for a different reason…Uh…" Santana trailed off, trying not to betray Quinn but pick Rachel out of the mental dumpster Quinn put her in.

"It's okay Santana. You don't have to explain."

Rachel smiled encouragingly before nodding to herself.

"You're not just a friend Rach; you're a good friend, an amazing friend. I keep saying this, but I don't deserve the way you treat me and all the second chances you give."

Rachel pursed her lips.

"We both know I never helped myself back at McKinley. I expected you all to change your attitude towards me when I couldn't change myself. I realized, since having this relation with you Santana; that friendship isn't about compromise as much as it is acceptance."

Santana chuckled and Rachel smirked.

"Well, I _accept_ you Rachel Berry."

"As I _accept_ you Santana Lopez."

They stared at each other.

"I think…I think I could be ready for a hug." Santana admitted and Rachel nodded, pulling the taller girl to her.

The panic rose in Santana's chest, it wasn't her, it wasn't her. All she could think was that it wasn't _her_. After a few deliberately deep breaths though, she regulated her heartbeat and nodded to herself over Rachel's head on her shoulder. The smaller girl's arms were secured tightly around her waist and it felt comforting, to know that she was holding Santana steady.

The comfort made its way through her body, relaxing her and warming her bones all the way up from her feet to the top of her head as Rachel sighed and gave her a small squeeze before pulling away.

"Thanks Rach."

"No problem." She replied as she disappeared through the door. Santana sighed and made her way back to the couch, picking her phone up and flipping it open.

She frowned at the screen tiredly.

_**Call Ended At 20:41- Quinn Fabray  
>Duration: 2.58<strong>_

Disregarding the previous message as indeed too confusing for her weary bones, she shut the phone and laid back in the sofa, letting the comfort of the warm cushions wash over her where Rachel had sat previously, remembering how lucky she was to actually have put her past self behind her.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four:

_When the world is playing hurtful games,_

_When my reflection makes me feel ashamed._

The first call had been awkward, Rachel had never really spoken to Brittany for more than two minutes in her life, but after a few confused pleasantries were exchanged she found they actually had missed many an opportunity for a good conversation.

"She's not hurt or anything then?"

Rachel took a deep breath, trying to explain why in fact she had tried to get in contact with Brittany in the first place was hard. Especially when all she really knew was that she wanted Santana to be okay and she had no idea how Brittany was supposed to do that from the opposite side of the country.

"No, not really. She's sad, Brittany I want her to be okay." Rachel replied with a sigh and thoughtfully added; "I also thought that I needed someone else's number whom she knew, just in case something _did_ happen to her and I couldn't deal with it."

"Oh right. So you two are dating then?"

She'd tried not to laugh; she really had and considered it to be a valiant effort, until Brittany actually heard her snigger.

"Why are you laughing?"

"It's not you Brittany, just. Santana and I could never date; we're too good friends for that. It would ruin it."

She heard Brittany's sigh at that point.

"I know that from experience."

It was from that moment on that Rachel realized, despite her sunny disposition, Brittany was capable of pain and sadness just as much as the other person and she was definitely suffering a lot of hurt from the situation between her and Santana than she let on in the unanswered texts she sent to Santana's cell.

They continued their conversations, Brittany being Rachel's sounding board for how she should deal with Santana's ever changing moods and many different negative mind sets while Rachel became Brittany's confidant. Unlike Rachel and Santana, she had no one she knew out in California and Rachel could only imagine how difficult it would be for someone such as Brittany to make friends out there. California was the land of fake happiness, undermined with a lot of negativity. Brittany, still being naïve, would be easily used then shunned out there.

So Rachel took it upon herself to be there (or rather, at the end of the phone) for the blonde when she was having a down day. Before she knew it, Brittany was calling Rachel her friend and the brunette could indeed relay the sentiment back to her.

They say though, that every lie or secret is bound to come out no end, usually with an outburst.

The knock at the door came in the early weeks of December.

* * *

><p>"I fucking trusted you Rachel!"<p>

Santana threw the front door open, not bothering to knock when she got to the apartment.

"Umm, come in Santana." Rachel replied tiredly as she read through her latest essay for her English class.

"I mean, you could have rung anyone, _anyone_. But Brittany? You just had to hurt me like that!"

Rachel sighed and rested her palms down upon her desk before turning, taking her reading glasses from her nose and surveying her best friend.

"It wasn't to spite you Santana…"

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

Rachel thought for a second, giving her a chance to calm down, but her ragged breathing kept up and her balled fists were shaking as she stood in the middle of the carpet, face drawn of thunder.

"I fucking trusted you! I let you in. I don't do that. How could I be so stupid? And then I let you touch me, I felt fucking relaxed! You were luring me in to get me back for what I did to you in High School, weren't you?" Santana growled at her, so fast it seemed as though she was mumbling, especially when she directed her tirade inwardly.

Rachel observed something in that moment.

Everything bad that happens to Santana, she seemed to think she deserved it, that part of it, even if it were a miniscule possibility that anything could have been done in revenge or comeuppance, that a tiny part of everything bad in her life was her fault or her doing. She directed her anger and shame, her jealousy and regret inwards, chastising herself for something, this time, wasn't anything to do with it being her fault.

Rachel held her hand up and Santana stared at it as though it were an alien, silencing out of shock at the diva's audacity rather than request.

"May I please speak?" Rachel inquired and the raven haired girl just stared. "Thank you."

The smaller girl stood up, hands on her hips as she explained everything, in a thoughtfully voice as though she were trying to work out her motives also, which was exactly what she was trying to do.

"I know going through your personal belongings was uncalled for, deceitful and extremely rude. For that I apologise. But I never wanted to hurt you Santana. I decided without actually having knowledge of why, that I may need some more contact with the people you know, just in case you got hurt or something happened to you and neither you nor I could deal with it."

She took a deep breath as Santana's mouth curved from its position around her angrily gritted teeth to a tight line; jaw clenched just as hard, fists still following suit.

"Also, though this was me interfering. I wanted to know why Brittany was still trying to act as though everything were normal, if indeed she actually was okay with this whole mess you've gotten yourselves in. She isn't by the way, just thought you should know that."

Santana flinched but Rachel continued.

"We got talking and she was helping me, she knows you better than I do and I needed to know why you said certain things, why you did certain things so I could help you. In turn, Brittany trusted me enough to talk her problems out with. We've formed a friendship Santana, because she's out in California alone, with no one. While, as strange and otherworldly as our friendship is, you and I have each other, she has no one there."

Santana nodded, suddenly looking so incredibly tired as she fell back and sat on the sofa. Rachel moved to join her, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, her head falling into her hands as she rubbed her weary eyes.

"Don't be. You have a right to be angry Santana. I invaded your privacy, it's unnecessary for you to feel guilty over being upset about that. I suppose though, it is not as bad that I had motives that were far from being spiteful."

The raven haired girl nodded and turned to her.

"It's really hard." She stated needlessly. Rachel could see how hard it was and the toll it was taking on her, but she let her continue, deciding for once in her life she had talked enough.

"I miss her so bad. Like, all the light is gone…stupidly cliché but it's all I can use to explain. You're amazing Rach, you're like a candle in the darkness but Brittany? She's the fucking Sun….the fucking Sun and I made her go away."

Rachel nodded and continued rubbing soothing circles into the distressed girls back.

"It's like the whole world is black and white now. Like…like life isn't…isn't fun. There's no point, I find myself doing things like routine but I can't even remember the reason for doing them…I'm just…"

"Going through the motions." Rachel offered and Santana nodded sadly.

She knew what that was like; she had been doing it since she got to New York too. Her "make-do" course at NYU left her feeling so un-inspired that she felt so numb.

"I feel so passive in the decisions I make in my life. I make them, I choose, but I forget why and how I got to wanting those things." Santana finished.

Rachel thought it through for a few seconds before nodding to herself.

"I think…" she began and thought how to word it.

"So do I…sometimes." Santana joked weakly and Rachel chuckled before continuing.

"I think you need to start replying to Brittany's texts."

Santana, instead of becoming angry like Rachel anticipated; jerked her head down once and looked up at her, a sign of agreement but not contentment.

"It'll help. Just because you can't see the love of your life doesn't mean you have to cut them off completely. You're lucky Santana, lucky that Brittany hasn't just deserted you and got a new life out there."

"You're right, but I think it makes it worse, to know she doesn't like it where she is. I've just made the both of us even more miserable."

Rachel saw the self-doubt again and set out to put it right.

"Brittany wouldn't have gone if she didn't want to. You didn't order her out there, she didn't obey you. She made her own decision and I believe that you're both to blame. Though not equally, you still share the responsibility here; that's what any relationship is."

Santana nodded.

"I'm." she began as she stood up, zipping her leather jacket up. "I'm gonna go call her."

Rachel smiled and looked up at her from the sofa.

"Go ahead. Let me know how it goes."

The raven haired girl nodded and Rachel stood. The taller girl pulled her into a hug and Rachel was relaxed; content that Santana still trusted her enough to let her in and relieved that she hadn't blown their friendship by trying to fix her best friend.

She walked Santana to the door and watched her go, nearly closing the door before remembering something.

For some odd reason, Quinn had made an appearance in her head. With no reason or rhyme she thought of the two minute phone call they had shared. Throwing open the door and jogging down the hall she called out for Santana. The girl turned around halfway down the flight of stairs.

"What's up munchkin?" she inquired and Rachel raised her eyebrows at the backhanded sentiment.

"How did you find out? About me going through your phone, how did you know?"

Santana grinned.

"Brittany kept asking me about you, whether we were dating, or whatever. When I didn't answer she kept telling me to stop being so annoying cause I was giving you a stroke or something."

Rachel laughed in relief as Santana joined in shaking her head.

"I guess, I didn't tell her not to tell you. Fair play." Rachel shrugged and waved as she walked back towards her door, letting it shut behind her as she thought about it all.

So, Quinn had not told Santana about their phone call.

Was she maybe protecting Rachel, or did she just want to forget it? Perhaps she was hurt that Santana had not told her about their friendship and had layed in to the girl, saying things Santana would not want to repeat to Rachel for fear of pushing her away. Surely though, Santana would have mentioned it if Quinn had told her she knew about their friendship, it was after all _their_ friendship, Rachel's and Santana's friendship. Anything concerning that friendship would be announced to both parties…would it not?

Rachel thought about it again and then came to the conclusion that she had indeed, broken that little moral she had been holding dear since being young, just by trying to help Santana out. Of course Santana wouldn't tell her everything, just as she hadn't told Santana everything.

Shaking her head at her over-analytical mind she sat back down at her desk, donning her glasses and going back to reading her essay. At least her skills of analysing would be put to good use in college work.

* * *

><p>"Well there's no point in your dads coming all the way up here if I can give you a ride." Santana shrugged, trying to convince Rachel that arriving in Lima half a week earlier than originally planned was a fair price to pay for spending less money on fuel.<p>

"But Santana! Everything is planned meticulously and adding those extra days will throw the balance of activities off kilter!" Rachel all but whined in reply.

"Jeez, loosen up will you? Christmas is for relaxing, not turning yourself into a control freak…oh too late…" Santana mumbled in reply as she read the magazine. She watched Rachel take a sip from her tea, moving around the room again.

They were in Santana's small living space, Rachel circling the room and looking at the mess of papers, pictures and other various items that was Santana's apartment.

"I suppose you're right." She heard the girl finally sigh and looked up as the smaller girl turned to face her. "I'll ring my dad's and inform them I am to be arriving ahead of schedule."

Santana nodded before going back to her magazine, Rachel continuing her circling. She heard a rustle of papers, the blowing of dust from book covers or other surfaces, and the small clicks of Rachel's bracelet as she rifled through her stuff.

"Santana…what are these?"

She looked up, peering at Rachel's hand. Beside the empty coffee mugs and dog eared books was a collection of post-it notes. Santana's memory immediately flashed back to the day she left Lima for New York, the day she left Quinn and Puck and home, the day she and Brittany parted ways.

Of course, they had been speaking, but only rarely. Once every three weeks rarely. _Rarely_ was too often for Santana, too often to keep her heart together before suffering it crack and chip away when she heard Brittany's voice, a fissure for every syllable.

Standing up from her seat on the sofa, she moved forward, taking them in her hands as Rachel watched.

Santana had lost count of how many times she had read them all, choosing to keep them together rather than stick them up around her apartment. This gave her option to hide them away when she was having a bad day and didn't need to be reminded of her unevenly distributed heart.

"_It's like in Peter Pan… You know, where he thinks a thimble is a kiss? Every one of those is a kiss, or a hug, or my hand to hold…On them are words that remind me of you and some that, you say, remind you of me."_

She heard Brittany's voice in her head as she surveyed the notes, reading their phrases. Sometimes a song lyric would crop up, or the mentioning of a favourite memory they had shared would be scrawled haphazardly beneath doodles of stars and hearts.

_Alistair Duck…"You're my dark dynamite,"….When your Mami caught us stapling your curtains together because we were pretending to be vampires…That time by the oak tree…. "The songbirds are singing like they know the score,"….Love….Lord Tubbington's first collar….When my Papa drove us all the way to the coast on holiday…Forever…."I built my life around you,"..._

The memories swirled around her head as she looked down upon the pink pale notes, drinking in her past and only vaguely aware that Rachel was still watching.

"Britt, gave me them. Like a thimble." Was all she could muster before throwing them down upon the desk and returning to her magazine?

Rachel took her cue not to push the subject but continued her steady pace around the apartment. It was the same every Friday, Rachel would come and survey the mess that Santana managed to make during the week and, with free lemon tea in return, give suggestions on tidying up.

So far, no tidying up had been done, ever. But both Santana and Rachel were over-compensating for that with the caffeine.

"What time do you want to leave on Sunday?" the brunette inquired, turning the conversation away from anything that could upset Santana.

"I'm not sure…but I guess you have a certain places you'd like to be on certain times."

Rachel sighs.

"Though I may have mentally scheduled bathroom stops and snack breaks for this weekend's journey, I am not that uptight you know." Rachel smirked settling into the armchair opposite her friend. "Perhaps you'd like to make the decisions this time…after all I am just along for the ride, so to speak."

Santana rolled her eyes but was shocked when a cushion hit her square in the face.

"Hey! What was that for titch?" she growled back, falling short of anger when she saw the smirk on the other girls face. Setting her magazine aside she feigned a stretch before reaching two cushions lightning fast and launching them across the apartment at Rachel.

The diva managed to duck one but was not fast enough for the other, taking it square on the cheek as Santana dived over the back of the sofa to take cover.

They spent a lot of the rest of the evening like that, playing around, forgetting how old they really were, and forgetting their numerous problems and struggles. It was safe to say, Santana and Rachel could never have found someone as good for them as the person who made them realize their flaws in the first place.

* * *

><p>"We're leaving now. I mean now." Santana groaned as Rachel launched another over-sized mass of luggage into the back of Santana's car.<p>

Revving the engine to emphasize her point, she laughed as Rachel slammed the door and hurried around the front of the bonnet, sheltering from the New York snow as she all but jumped into the passenger seat.

"Finally." Santana rolled her eyes and eased the car out of the lot, taking the roads needed to get them to the highway's leading to Lima.

They drove for nearly three quarters of an hour in silence due to Rachel's inability to stay awake with the heat on so high and the sound of rain against the windscreen. Santana concentrated on navigating the slush covered roads that were becoming quite unstable due to the rain icing over as it washed away the now grey snow on the outskirts of New York.

Rachel awoke when they hit the highway just before Lima, cursing herself for missing her scheduled bathroom and snack breaks. Santana just rolled her eyes and continued to focus on the road.

Seeing as her father was a doctor, she knew what kind of injuries could be sustained from a car crash and so kept her eyes glued to the tarmac and the other travellers. She was great at multitasking though, so when Rachel leaned over and switched the radio on two thirds of the way into the journey she found herself singing along absently.

_Baby It's Cold Outside_ gave both Rachel and Santana the perfect opportunity to realize that they should most definitely of taken a duet task together back in high school. Santana thoughtfully pointed this out, wondering why on earth their harmonies had never been spotted before.

"Remind me…" Santana laughed as they finished the ending notes of the song with humour and gusto. "Why we never sang together in Glee club."

Rachel smirked and arched an eyebrow, reminding Santana immediately of Quinn.

"You hated me…remember?" she reminded the raven haired driver.

Santana cocked her head to the side as she indicated to turn off the highway.

"Oh yeah." She nodded in comprehension then shrugged, taking a sideways look at her best friend. The person who had been there for her even after she had done so much to push her away, the person she had set as a benchmark for her morals.

"I have no idea why." She added and smiled as Rachel's hand layed itself lightly upon hers at the bottom of the centre console.

They continued to sing and laugh their way through the rest of the journey, the sun brightening up the winter sky as they entered Lima. White snow still lingered on the edges of the grass, like the light dusting of flour upon a kitchen counter after kneading the dough.

Santana pulled up at the traffic lights beside a well-known diner in the town, well-known only for its diabolical cooking and less than cheerful employees.

_Mandy'_s was a building in the centre of a junction by the town centre, surrounded by traffic lights and roundabouts. The building was all but demolished already, most of the blinds half off the rails, the windows covered in grease anyway. The door was creaky, the floors sticky and the dumpsters overflowing.

The two girls in the car waited for the lights to slowly and painfully turn from angry red to soothing green. The smaller of the two turned to look outside the passenger window, freezing dead in a messed up concoction of horror, heartbreak, shock and intrigue.

* * *

><p>It was simple really. She just wanted a cigarette. Why was that so bad? Why did god have to punish her for that as well? She'd been smoking for a long time now, finding comfort in the nicotine and it's unhealthy soothing taste. Quinn stood, back against the wall, hands rubbing upper arms in the freezing Lima air. She took a drag from her cigarette and looked up.<p>

There was a lot of traffic today she noticed, a lot of it. Some cars she recognized, other's she didn't and others…others she really wish she never saw.

It pulled up, backfiring as it stopped at the red light. Rough and yellowing in colour, the originally cream beaten out car that belonged to the one and only Santana Lopez had stopped in front of _Mandy's Diner_.

Quinn thought about hiding, ducking away to make sure Santana hadn't seen her, or where she was obviously spending most of her time trying to make money as a waitress. But it was too late for that, the moment Quinn saw into the window it was too late for anything.

Staring back at her, open mouthed and as gorgeously other worldly as ever was Rachel Berry.

Of course, Quinn should have suspected it. She knew something was going on the moment the brunette answered Santana's phone that time. She never knew they were that close though, and she had expected Santana to tell her. They were best friends right? Quinn was in love with Rachel, Santana would have told her if she was actually bothered about her feelings, would she not?

Though she hadn't promised anything to Rachel in those few seconds, she stayed to true to her silent word and kept the accidental phone call a secret. She would have reasoned that she kept it quiet because she expected Rachel to call her later and explain, but that was inaccurate. She couldn't bring herself to hurt Rachel anymore, the pleading in her voice when she asked not to tell Santana about the call was a like a knife in Quinn's rib cage, restricting her breathing.

The blonde didn't know what to feel. She was angry, she knew that. Angry that Santana had still not come clean, angry that Rachel seemed to want to keep it a secret that Quinn knew, angry that they had caught her in a position of vulnerability.

Angry that they had seen her at her worse, seen what the one and only Quinn Fabray had become.

Angry that Rachel Berry had indeed made something of herself and there Quinn stood, freezing cold in a pink pinafore, shivering while she suffocated herself slowly to an early death, while Santana Lopez seemed to get taken along for the ride.

Angry that she didn't have the guts to go over to that car and demand answers.

Just so angry that she could even be so upset when it was all her fault anyway.

Everything always was.

Throwing the cigarette away half finished, she craved the warmth and shelter away from those brown eyes, letting a tear escape the moment the steel back door closed behind her. The moment she felt that connection to the brunette vanish and the red light turn to green.

It was official; Quinn Fabray was a train wreck, dropped from the top of a cliff, sunk to the dark bottom of the ocean, and she had more anger than she knew what to do with.

* * *

><p>"You saw that too…right?"<p>

Rachel turned and nodded to Santana as they drove off further down the block, too stunned to speak previously after seeing Quinn at Mandy's.

"God. I never even knew, she said she had a job but I thought she meant…" Santana continued and Rachel shrugged. "She looked so…so…"

"Not Quinn." Rachel finished for her and they both nodded as they pulled up outside Rachel's dad's house.

"I'll help you get your stuff in." Santana sighed and let herself out of the car. Rachel sat in a moment's silence, wrestling with her heartstrings as they tried to tie a noose of guilt around her neck.

Quinn had never been nice to her, ever. She hated her, so why was it she felt the need to turn the car around and head back to the diner, scoop Quinn in her arms and tell her it's going to be okay? Cradle that fragilely thin and ill looking body into her own and stroke her hair, protecting her from this life she had been undoubtedly dropped into? Why did she feel the inexplicable need to comfort Quinn?

It wasn't news to anyone that a run in with Quinn had made Rachel horribly depressed before, but this was the first time Rachel knew she had to do something to make the girl feel better.

After all, Christmas was the season of goodwill, right?

* * *

><p>Santana was used to receiving these kinds of texts from Quinn, but this time she couldn't even bring herself to reply. So scared to damage things further, she decided to let the blonde's anger fizzle out before trying to explain.<p>

It seemed though, that Quinn's supply of anger was bottomless. The girl had a lot of anger; Santana thought _she_ was damaged, but Quinn? She was demolished. Text after text came through and this time Santana couldn't find it in herself to be pissed when Rachel went through her phone again.

"You really should reply you know." Rachel had muttered when they were getting lunch in the mall.

"I know, I know."

Santana would have opened up there, the fear was bubbling to the surface but when she heard a voice her chest tightened and she jumped out of her skin.

"Hey! Eva Peron!"

She turned and standing beside a litter bin in the food court was a very tall manly looking guy. Santana, realizing whom it was let her lips pull up in a smirk, nostalgia rolling around her head. She turned back to Rachel.

" I'll be a second. I need to go catch up."

Rachel nodded and gestured to the nearest cosmetics shore.

"Sure, go ahead. You'll find me in there."

With that Santana stood from the table and walked to the litter bin.

Without Dave Karofsky, Santana would never have come out. Without Santana Lopez, Dave would never have come out. Without each other, they would still be closeted bullies hating the world for nothing but whom they love.

"Fuck me! I thought you were gone for good!" He chuckled and Santana inclined her head. He was leaning against the bin, arms folded and a smile playing on his lips as he looked down at Santana.

"Even The Fury can't get rid of me that easily." Santana grinned and Dave shrugged.

"Good, I was beginning to think you and Berry had gone and got married or some shit."

Santana rolled her eyes and Dave laughed.

"I'm kidding. Besides, it's better if you're single."

Santana frowned as they began walking down the strip of stores. Dave smiled and looked down at her carefully.

"Why's that?" she inquired and he looked thoughtful for a second.

"Well, for the first thing. You being with anyone but Brittany is fucking weird dude, you and her are like, two pieces of the same pie or whatever they say." He grinned. "And then, if you're single, you have more of a chance of getting her back."

Santana sighed and decided against trying to explain how impossible that was. So, she twisted the knife in her chest a different angle and left it for a while, changing the subject.

"I'll bear that in mind. What about you? How's things?"

He sighed and looked around pointedly.

"You even bother asking in a place like this…seriously?"

They both laughed and Dave continued, putting his hands in his pockets.

"When you left for college it gave me hope you know? I don't want to be like Azimio, stuck here. I told him that and you can only imagine how he reacted, you know what Az is like. My aunt owns a restaurant in Canada. I've always been in to the whole cooking thing, but you know that anyway."

Santana remembered fondly how they'd hide away in Dave's basement kitchen, making cookies and decorating them with the best insults they could manage. After a while though, the insults turned into iced pleas of freedom, Santana had lost count of how many "Lebanese" cookies she'd intended to give to Brittany but ended up throwing at the wall or into the trash.

"So, I'm going up to Toronto in the New Year, she's taking me on as an apprentice and I'm gonna try and work my way up."

She looked up at the light in his eyes.

"Canada?"

Dave sucked his cheeks in in thought and nodded slowly.

"I figured the best place to actually, fully accept myself is a place where I feel I can get support. You know? Canada is perfect, I mean it's a big step from this hellhole but, I'm so ready for it. I think It's gonna take a while, but maybe by the time you next see me, it'll be all of me, true to myself, no lies."

Santana nodded and smiled.

"I look forward to it."

They continued to talk as they walked back towards the food court and parted ways when Dave admitted to ditching Azimio to catch up with Santana. She waved him away, knowing how the boy would react if Dave was gone too long. If Santana didn't know better she would have thought Azimio was jealous of everyone whom got to spend time with Dave, he did act a little too gay to be assumed straight.

As she waited for Rachel she felt her phone buzz. Taking out of her pocket she assumed it was the brunette asking her where she was. She looked down at the words and the sender and felt tears prick in her eyes.

**13.42 Q: **_I wish I could say I can't believe you'd do this to me, but I can. I don't know what's worse; the fact that you decided you'd suddenly be her best friend or decided it wasn't worth mentioning it to me. Congratulations Santana, I didn't think it was possible but wonderful, magical you has managed to break my heart twice in just one go. Well done. I hope you're proud._

She sighed and fought with herself over replying, half-typing a message before deleting it.

"Hey, what's up girlfriend?" Rachel asked in the cutest lame voice she could as she joined Santana outside the cosmetics store.

"Hi." Santana replied dully and looked up, pocketing her phone.

"Wow. Seriously, what's wrong?" Rachel asked, reaching out and laying a hand on Santana's shoulder.

"Nothing, its fine Rach."

They began walking towards the exit to the parking lot, Rachel staring at Santana as they went.

"Another text?" Rachel asked and the taller girl shrugged as they lowered themselves into the car.

The brunette reached across Santana's lap, forcing her hand into the pocket and retrieving the phone.

"Rachel…don't." Santana began weakly but had no emotional energy to try any harder.

Santana watched the smaller girl read; her expression as she made her way through it unreadable until she got to the last few lines.

"What does that mean?" she asked, holding the phone up. "Her heart being broken twice, what does she mean?"

Santana just shook her head and looked away, starting the car.

"Okay." Rachel sighed and sat back in her chair, staring out the window as Santana drove towards her dad's house.

What Santana didn't know as Rachel waved her away from the edge of her driveway, was that the small diva was going to find out whether she liked it or not.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five:

_I count on you to always care,_

_Because we're both the only bond we share._

It was half past ten on the Christmas Eve that Rachel got the courage up to actually act on her intrigue and misplaced guilt.

The door swung open slowly, creaking like the weary bones of a grandparent whom had seen far too much a lifetime of negativity and hardship. Rachel imagined the diner itself also had seen a lifetime of very much the same thing.

She sat down in an empty booth a little ways away from the counter. She acknowledged the only two other people within the diner at that time of night; a highway maintenance cop and a woman hugging coffee while writing furiously on a pad, occasionally reaching up to tousle short grey hair.

Taking a napkin from the holster on the table she swiped it repeatedly over the greasy and stained surface of the table. After exhausting a copious amount of tissues she gave It up as a bad case.

She watched as the door behind the counter swung open, the sound harsh against the quiet atmosphere inside the dingy diner. The very person Rachel had been waiting for had just entered the establishment.

Quinn's hair was short, not too short but she had never grown her hair back out to the length it had been previously after their twelfth place ranking at nationals a few years ago. A scruffy line parted her hair to the side, tucked behind her head into a tiny ponytail at the nape of her neck. A few strands of fringe fell into her face every now and then before she tucked them back behind her ear. A yellow jotter pencil was tucked into the hair of her ponytail, blunt and chipped as it protruded through one side and out the other, worn down to a short little crayon sized implement.

Her pink uniform was washed out and greying in places, the grease from daily dishwashing and cooking smeared here and there. It was pulled tightly in at her tiny waist by the decidedly grey apron. Rachel noted how thin Quinn was. She had, pre baby gate and post birth, always been rather small. But then she had been toned, strong, healthy. Her healthy glowing skin had been spread graciously over carefully constructed muscle tone.

Now though, pale and wan looking skin was pulled tightly over sharp bones and thin looking joints. She looked frail and older than she had ever seen in her life. Pale as the white moon she tightened her apron even further around her now minuscule and undernourished body and continued to tidy things behind the counter.

With a sweeping glance of the diner, during which Rachel ducked her head to the side out of view, she breathed deeply.

Rachel watched those hazel eyes glint as they surveyed their surroundings. After witnessing this she felt something tiny, something minuscule but infinitely important, chip away from her heart.

The dissatisfaction in those eyes that swept the diner every few minutes, the thin jaw line that clenched in chagrin and regret, the tight frown of thought etched into her porcelain forehead, the ruler straight line her pale lips pressed together beneath her sharp nose, it spoke millions of things to Rachel.

The resounding theme of these features and their assumed positions was how lost Quinn looked in the environment. How wasted she looked, both in potential but also in consciousness; as thought sleep was a foreign thing to those eyelids, so dark they looked almost bruised beneath the trademark thin eyebrows.

Rachel sighed as Quinn took up her notepad and fished her pencil from her hair, moving around the counter towards the nearest customer.

"Hey, can I get you anything else?" Quinn asked lightly and Rachel's inside quivered at the husky tones of that perfect smoky voice. She had of course heard it through the phone not long prior but nothing, repeat nothing, could compare to the quality and sheer clarity of the blonde's voice in real time.

Through the wonderful sound waves though, Rachel could hear the forced cheerfulness; a façade familiar to everyone whom had known Quinn throughout high school and was present during her struggles.

The woman with short grey hair looked up at Quinn. She said nothing and Quinn stood there, waiting; pencil poised in anticipation with a small shake of impatience. After a few seconds of silence and eye contact, Rachel watched Quinn lean forwards over the table nearer to the woman.

"Is there anything else you would like?" she repeated and the woman clicked her tongue loudly before picking up the coffee cup, shaking it in her face then shoving it into Quinn's hands.

"I'm not deaf you know, just trying to concentrate. Make sure it's not cold this time, fucking freezing it was before." The woman all but growled back.

Rachel expected to see a reaction from Quinn, maybe even a challenge, but no such rise came. There was not even an arched eyebrow anywhere in the equation as she turned, nodding slowly with a blank look on her face, and made her way back to the counter.

Placing the cup upon the surface and banging the metal with her hand, she shouted out to the back.

"Double shot espresso, table four."

Her voice almost echoed in the silence of the place but Rachel heard the reply to her request in the form of a coffee machine sounding, whirring and clicking in the back of the kitchen. The blonde turned and walked the length of space between the woman's table and the end booth where the traffic cop sat.

They were out of ear shot but Rachel knew what was going on. Quinn nodded, jotting something down upon her notepad before turning to the cop when he spoke. Her face changed from its emotionless void into a forced and shy smile, looking down at the man through her long lashes she nodded slowly and layed a hand upon his forearm resting upon the table.

The cop smirked horribly, leering at her as she nodded. He slipped a few bills into the pocket of Quinn's apron before whispering in her ear. Quinn chuckled falsely; Rachel could hear it from the other end of the diner.

As she turned away from the cop to go and give his order into the counter Rachel saw the man cop a feel of her ass, a light smacking sound reaching her ears as Quinn's face turned from its forced flirtatious smile into that blank emotional void.

Angry Quinn was scarier than when Santana went all "Lima Heights Adjacent" on you, but Rachel would have preferred it. She would have preferred Quinn turn around and deliver that man a crack to the jaw, a slap to the face or a harsh talking to, a battering of verbal abuse and threats.

But there was nothing. Just as there had been no rise from the blonde towards the foully mannered woman, Quinn just walked away, blank faced and emotionless. She looked exhausted as she ripped the order from her notebook and pinned it up on the rotating pegs.

Turning to lean on the counter, Quinn pulled the collection of bills from her apron pocket that had been left by the sleazy traffic cop. She looked up and her eyes flashed towards the man sitting in the end booth.

Rachel followed her glance and felt her anger bubble up inside her. Who was he to take advantage of Quinn like that? To treat her like meat, as a man of apparent social and communal importance was downright disgusting.

But Rachel couldn't tell if it was because he was abusing his position and she felt so protective over this new frail and used Quinn, or because she was jealous of his being able to touch Quinn, feel her body and in such an intimate place….

"Ah! Dios mio!"

She turned at the sound of an apparent tirade in Spanish. She saw Quinn standing with her arms limply to her sides. An overly large and sweaty woman was shouting at her in Spanish. She replied occasionally in the same tongue.

If Rachel was paying attention to anything other than how much Quinn had changed and how nervous she was about their inevitable conversation, she would have realized how earth-shatteringly sexy it was that Quinn was speaking Spanish.

Rachel had of course, a lot of run ins with the language considering she spent most of her days with Santana, but she never heard it spoken by someone with such an already breath-taking voice. It was hot, but Rachel didn't notice that until afterwards. All she could think of was how small Quinn looked and must have felt in that moment.

"Si." She replied when she was finished, nodding slowly.

"¿Sí qué?"the woman asked dangerously and Quinn.

"Si jefe..." She prompted and Quinn replied with the same words.

"Sí jefe, me pondré en ello." she sighed and walked away from the older woman, fiddling with her notebook.

It took a moment for Rachel to realize she was heading towards her own booth. She straightened up quickly and brushed her hair with her fingers, pulling her clothes together and straight.

When Quinn arrived at the table she didn't look at Rachel, she just sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly.

"Sorry, I didn't see you there. What can I get you?"

Rachel took in a deep breath and almost whispered in response.

"A moment of your time perhaps?"

She mentally patted herself on the back for her smooth response but halted when Quinn's hand lowered slowly from her forehead and her eyes in turn followed to see Rachel sitting, hands clasped calmly together upon the table.

"I'm extremely busy." Quinn replied stonily, her face passive but her eyes glinting as she surveyed Rachel.

"But I…!"

"Order or leave." Quinn replied in a monotone.

"Fine; a lemon tea and a cappuccino!" Rachel replied frustrated. "Please." She added and Quinn nodded, jotting it down.

"They'll be right with you." She finished writing on her pad and turned quickly to leave.

"Quinn!" Rachel called as she walked away, thankful when she turned slowly back.

"What?"

"I'd very much appreciate it if someone I knew brought them over, I'd even tip for a familiar face." She smirked carefully and watched Quinn's intake of breath.

The blonde didn't respond before stalking off, slamming the notepad upon the counter and shouting out the order before disappearing through the back door.

Rachel turned to the table once again, sighing slightly as she sunk back into her seat.

* * *

><p>The tears came easily. She didn't know whether it was frustration, regret, shame or anger. Well…it was definitely anger, with Quinn it was always anger. But there was a different motive and Quinn could feel it bubbling beneath her skin.<p>

Love was making her cry again. The shame of being caught once again in Rachel's shocked and pitiful stare, the regret of letting herself fall into this "make-do" life, never doing anything to warrant it but gaining Rachel's sympathy all the same. She didn't want Rachel's sympathy. She wanted her strength and her passion.

Above all, the only thing Quinn had craved over a perfect life had been Rachel's love.

And as she flicked the ash from the cigarette, letting the tears fall down her face she stared into the black sky, counting the stars, counting the Rachel's in the sky. Counting the missed opportunities, the regrets and the hope that Rachel wasn't here to flaunt her new life with Santana as her best friend in the "best city in the world, it's simply wonderful Quinn you have no idea."

Quinn didn't have any idea, she really didn't.

"Order up Fabray, do your job."

She turned and nodded at Aaron, one of the kitchen staff from the diner, and threw the cigarette away. She was going to need to buy a new pack again, what was it with Rachel that made her throw away perfectly good half smoked cigarettes?

Reluctantly she moved into the diner once more. She knew that the cappuccino was supposed to be for her but she had no intention of actually drinking it, or staying around Rachel for too long. It was Christmas Eve; maybe Franco would let her go home early if she feigned a stomach ache.

Carrying the tray in shaky hands towards the table she placed it down, carefully avoiding Rachel's eyes.

"Thank you." Rachel said before Quinn took the tray and began to walk away.

This time Rachel was having none of it.

* * *

><p>She grabbed the blonde's wrist, sub-consciously cringing at how frail and thin it was.<p>

"Sit down Quinn."

She wasn't asking and she could see Quinn knew that. Something changed in the blonde's eyes, from resignation there came some sort of fire and Rachel was unsure of whether it was good or bad.

"Please, just a drink." She added and Quinn let out a hefty sigh before moving stiffly towards the other side of the booth, lowering herself fragilely into the seat, eyeing the rest of the diner just in case. Rachel was happy that another waitress was tending to the grouchy woman in the corner and that the traffic cop had hightailed it out of there when he saw Rachel glaring at him.

"What do you want from me?"

It was broken the way it came out and Rachel felt the wind get knocked out of her. The double entendre that was presented by Quinn's tone left Rachel feeling as though she were really hurting the girl, paining her beyond belief rather than just annoying her or interfering.

"I wanted to talk." She replied. "About this…situation."

"The one where you stole my best friend and poisoned her against me, or the one where you come back to flaunt it in my face?" came the reply and Rachel flinched.

"Exactly that, yes." She used a different tactic to get Quinn's attention and almost smiled when Quinn's face actually portrayed some sort of feeling and interest at that point.

"I wanted to apologise." She began. "Mostly for getting in the way of yours and Santana's friendship, that was never my intention. Not at all. I simply ran in to Santana during our first year Law class and, since we'd both grown up we put our differences aside and accepted each other's company. I personally was desperate for the familiarity. New York is a very scary place on your own, especially when you're someone like me."

Quinn just stared back at her passively as she took a sip of her tea.

"Someone difficult." She elaborated and Quinn's eyes seemed to soften at that remark before she blinked and the wall was back up.

"You never occurred in my train of thought, Santana never mentioned you, or Brittany or anyone else from McKinley for a very long time into the friendship, not by choice anyway and rarely by prompt. Of course, I never asked about you because, let's face it. You and I have never really had much concern for each other…"

"That's a lie."

"I…I'm…I'm sorry?" Rachel stuttered and Quinn clenched her jaw.

"You've never been my friend Rachel, that's the honest conclusion. We called it 'friendship' but it was a loose acquaintanceship. Finn was pretty much the only reason we'd even talk to each other and…even then we found it difficult to be civil. _I_ found it difficult."

She watched as Quinn talked in a monotone.

"But that doesn't mean I was never concerned for you. We were on the same team for a very long time and, I don't know whether you've heard but when you're in a team you look after every one. I found your presence grating and you annoyed the fuck out of me, but when it came to the wire I'd look out for you, when Glee was on the line. You did the same. When I was pregnant, after every time Finn dumped me you were there, not always to ask how much danger you'd be in if you pursued him again."

Rachel stifled a laugh at this and felt warm and soothed when she saw Quinn smirk a little. The stone of Quinn's expression had been chipping itself away as she spoke, her eyes losing the film of daze and the emotional barrier stretched over her eyes.

"This thing with Santana…" the blonde began and shook her head, avoiding eye contact. "I'm not mad at you."

"You know." Rachel smiled to herself, feeling the cold wood of the bench in the corridor they sat in after she told Finn the baby wasn't his, against her legs in nostalgia. "You've said that before and, however wonderfully convincing you may think you are... Quinn, I know, for a fact, that you indeed are mad at me, even if it's without legitimate reason. You can feel something without having to define its cause you now."

"You're right, I'm mad. But I don't want to shout, so we'll forget that right?"

Rachel nodded and Quinn looked relieved, caving in and drinking some coffee.

"So, after that inadvertent apology for your reaction I'd like to offer up my second topic of conversation."

Quinn set her cup down upon the table.

"And what's that? Not anything else Santana related is it? I don't think I want to talk about her anymore." she inquired warily and Rachel smirked.

"You think I came here to bridge the huge chasm between you and I by talking about Santana? No, I want to talk about you."

"Muh…me?"

"Yes you. I noticed you decided not to move away after graduation, you want to start there?"

Quinn inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. Rachel noticed the girl sighed a lot lately, as though she were trying to exhale all the tension she felt or the worries she had.

The blonde placed her palms flat on the table and began speaking.

"My mom and dad wanted me to go to Berkeley with Britt. I guess, I, kinda wanted to go, not as much they thought I did though. It's a lot of money I'm sure you understand with your move to New York, to go out of state to school without a scholarship. I missed out on my Cheerio's due to leaving before we completed nationals. Anyway, my parents said they'd pay between them, cause you know, since they got divorced things have been tight on both sides money wise. But they said they'd been saving for a while."

Rachel nodded as Quinn swallowed then continued.

"I was all packed to go, my stuff all zipped and packed away in boxes. Then my mom found something, of mine. It revealed something about me I never intended her to find out. She told my dad and they were so…so fucking ashamed of me that they withdrew funding for my college career."

Nodding for her to carry on if she was ready, Rachel couldn't bring herself to ask what it was Quinn's parent's had found out, what Quinn was keeping a secret. Perhaps she had been in contact with Beth and they had not condoned their daughter being an active influence in her own daughter's life? But Quinn swore she didn't want to get involved with Beth after Shelby adopted her, so that seemed both most likely and unlikely reasons at the same time.

Nevertheless, Rachel listened as Quinn carried on.

"They both kicked me out, so I couldn't go to either of their houses. I stayed with Mike for a while."

"Mike Chang?"

"Yeah, Mike Chang." Quinn's lips pulled up into a grateful half smile. "People should have got to know him more in Glee club, he's pretty awesome. We have a lot in common."

"I do regret never knowing more about certain people, yes." Rachel replied with unintended intensity. She watched Quinn falter under her gaze but fix her with a steady stare back. There was no doubt who Rachel was subliminally pointing out.

"So then what happened?" Rachel prompted and Quinn blinked a few times before seeming to remember where she was.

"Well I couldn't stay with Mike forever, so I started working here. When I saved up enough I got a bedsit downtown in the west and the rest is history as they say. Now I do what I can for money."

Rachel frowned.

"You live downtown?"

"Yeah. I'm not trying to play the poor kid card but I actually do. It's all I can afford. And save your sympathy because it's my own fault."

Rachel held a hand up and Quinn silenced.

"I'm not judging you Quinn; you're not this week's Rachel Berry Charity Case. I'm…concerned. For your safety and your wellbeing."

She paused before continuing.

"You see, when I heard you on the phone for those few moments, you sounded very much the same, and just like the old Quinn Fabray I knew at high school. It's been a couple of months and I hardly recognized you the other day when we pulled up outside by the junction. A lot has happened to you Quinn, I'm not going to pretend I'm not extremely interested in the details of your story, but I'm not going to push you. You and I have a very colourful history you see, if I'm to be honest, you know me in a way no one else does but you also don't know me at all. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, I get it." Quinn nodded. "I've seen sides of you that I've never seen apart from those rare times we spent together alone, mostly fighting. I know _that _Rachel Berry, she's very familiar. But you're right; we don't know each other to trust, only to spend time with."

Rachel bit her lip.

"You're exactly right. But Quinn, you're so much better than this place you know."

There came no reaction, Quinn just sat staring hardly at the patch of table beside Rachel's finished lemon tea.

Rachel checked her watch and cringed, ten to twelve. She ought to have been getting home; the diner ought to have been closing. But there they sat in half-light in the now deserted diner, engrossed in how much they didn't know about each other.

"You once said that to me. You said you were the one who had to stay here and live your life out, you said I was the one who was going to go out and make something happen."

Rachel pulled a pen out and retrieved a napkin, writing the address of her apartment on the white sheet. She didn't know why she was doing it, she felt exactly as she had done when she was rifling through Santana's phone.

She had no control over her actions but she knew they were right and with purpose.

"Here. That's my address. I think you should come to New York."

She stood and straightened her jacket.

"It's late I should leave. Can I call you a cab or something?"

Quinn just stared at the address in front of her, looking as though she was about to protest when she held up the napkin.

"I couldn't come and stay with you Rachel no way. I just up and leave everything I own to come to New York? With someone who I've supposedly hated all through high school? That's crazy! I won't do it!"

Rachel's eyebrows lifted at the word "supposedly" but otherwise she tried to seem nonchalant.

"Then come and stay for a few days. Anyone can see you need a break. Just think about it okay?"

She smiled as a thought occurred to her, turning back to see Quinn staring at the floor. She leant over the table, placing a hand on the pale fingers over the napkin. Quinn looked up into her eyes, defiant but shocked.

"You don't belong here Quinn. And you can't hate me for sending you on your way."

She pulled away and moved to the door of the diner, pulling it open. As she did so the beeping of an electrical clock sounded about the diner. It was midnight.

"Hey Quinn..."

Rachel turned to Quinn once more and smiled.

"Yes?" the blonde managed to choke out.

"Merry Christmas."


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six:

_And when light returns to our hearts,_

_We'll share a look and know our past._

The rest of Christmas went off without a hitch. Santana received a small apology from Quinn along with a guilty "Merry Christmas" phone call in the afternoon of Christmas day. She had told the blonde on the phone not to worry about it and queried about what had changed her from stubborn to grovelling.

Quinn had not replied but just asked when Santana was leaving back to New York and what her plans were for New Year's.

Rachel had taken over with her plans for this particular celebration, so it was on the day before New Year 's Eve Santana found herself inviting Quinn to a get together that involved both Rachel's dads and her own dysfunctional family. She needed Quinn to keep her sane, but it seemed the blonde wasn't sure whether she was going to come or not.

Santana was not surprised, after what had happened in the previous few months she was not sure Quinn even wanted to hear her speak about Rachel anymore. But it had been Rachel whom had pushed her to ask Quinn to come.

She tried to cover for the blonde, telling her that Quinn was always asked to go to some sort of church mass with her parents on New Year's Eve. Rachel though, was having none of it, stealing her phone (which seemed was becoming a habit of sorts) and texting Quinn herself.

The blonde had replied with a nonchalant "we'll see" and Santana finally got Rachel to drop it.

Being in the middle of her two best friends while one of them was seriously in love with the other and said object of affection was clueless, felt like being in a fucking Shakespeare play with all the angst of a teen drama film. Santana enjoyed immersing herself in their troubles though, just so she could forget about Brittany.

It was the first New Year's since they were seven years old she was going to be spending without the other blonde half of her heart. She wasn't looking forward to that part, but she was sure what with Rachel running around like a mad woman and her mother following with Hiram and Leroy, she was going to have enough to deal with.

Still, she would have liked some blonde around, it was a pity Quinn couldn't face her demons, not that Santana was being hypocritical by calling her a coward…right?

The laughter rang out over the music playing on the stereo, a mix tape of classic rock her father had borrowed from Leroy when he learnt that they had pretty much the same music taste.

Santana's mother fell about laughing as Rachel tried to prize Julian from Hiram's back and the older man laughed, tickling Anthon underneath the arms. Sara, Santana's little sister just watched from the sofa, quietly.

Santana had always been distant from her brothers, but Sara was different. She was the second oldest at fifteen and Anthon and Julian were non-identical twins of nine.

As she moved towards the kitchen she tapped her little sister on the shoulder and nodded her head towards the other room, Sara stood, avoiding her father's tipsy attempt at a hug and followed her older sister into the kitchen.

Santana poured herself a Jack Daniels, slipping a drop into a new glass and topping them both up with cola. She held out the glass to Sara and the younger girl took it, matching her mischievous wink as they toasted.

"So, what's up chica?" Santana asked, leaning against the counter as Sara jumped up to sit on it beside her.

"Nada, mom's a pain in the neck, dad's hardly ever around, Ant and Jules are killing me…same old same old. I wanna hear about New York!" she replied, moaning before trailing off excitedly and Santana chuckled.

"It's just New York baby girl. Nothing special. My apartment is tiny and cold, my only friend there is Rachel and we're top of our law class, I guess that's good news."

Santana trailed off, thinking about Rachel's college choices for what could have been the millionth time since she walked into her law class. It was true; she and Rachel had been acing their law class since the start of the term.

Rachel was putting her all into it, spending most of her time with or without Santana studying everything relevant and some irrelevant to the subjects she was taking at NYU. The girl was clever, Santana would give her that, but there was something huge missing from Rachel's work and her demeanour when she studied.

Back at McKinley, when Rachel Berry did something you could tell, it was done properly with effort and above all passion. Rachel had no passion for the subjects she was studying, she put effort and work in but she never seemed to have any passion for what she was doing.

"You look thinky." Sara moaned and Santana came back to the present, shaking her head clear and taking a sip of her drink.

Sara reached across and ran her fingers over Santana's forehead.

"What are you doing?" Santana asked as she regarded the girl's concentration face, tongue between teeth, and a small scowl about her eyes. Santana recognised it; she had caught herself doing it many a time during late night study sessions.

"When you go all thinky-looking it's like you've borrowed Granma's forehead for the day." Sara replied as Santana let the skin on her forehead be ploughed and pulled.

"Well, it's what being old does to you." The older Lopez shrugged and Sara pulled back, surveying her.

"San..." She began thoughtfully as she regarded Santana's bittersweet smile. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Santana sighed and shook her head, smiling at her little sister fondly as she tucked a spare strand of the trademark Lopez black hair behind Sara's tanned ear.

"Brittany would want you to talk about it." Sara mumbled and Santana ceased her actions, moving her hands to steady them around her glass. She took an extra-long pull at the drink, blinking slowly.

"Pull up a pew bigger-me." Sara gestured for the space next to her on the counter and offered her a hand. Santana took the hand, kissed the back of it and in one movement, leapt up to sit on the counter, a leg folded beneath her.

"I know she would." Santana addressed the earlier statement. "But it's all because of her."

Sara wove her arm through Santana's and around her back, pulling herself closer so she could rest her head in the crook of Santana's neck.

"Well, you don't _have_ to talk about it. I get it, you love her. Simple like chemistry."

Santana frowned down at the dark hair on her shoulder.

"Chemistry is a really, really hard subject Sair."

The younger Lopez pulled away and grinned, nodding.

"Yeah, one of the hardest, but you can't stop chemistry from happening, maybe on the odd occasion you can stop a reaction, but there's always some sort of chemistry going on somewhere."

Santana thought about the analogy for a moment.

She and Brittany were two chemicals that had come together. They had formed a bond very early in their lives and so had never really lived without each other. But people didn't understand their bond, they didn't understand how it had happened and so they poked and prodded, looking for a reaction. After a while, the bond changed and was influenced by the people trying to instil a reaction in their relationship.

Santana realized who she was in that respect. She was the scientist, poking and prodding at the relationship, scared of the unknown and trying to find a familiar reaction or happening that could be pinned as normal.

"You're fucking clever, you know that?"

Sara grinned up at her, white teeth straight and shining just like Santana's.

"You tell me that all the time. It must be true."

Santana pulled her younger doppelgänger into a hug and felt Sara relax into her embrace.

"I miss you San."

It came out as the tiniest admission, Sara being a typical Lopez and not really working with feelings, only logic.

"I miss you too baby girl." Santana replied into the familiar black hair, soothing it at the nape of her sister's neck where she used to stroke when she was a toddler.

Sara pulled away and drank some of her drink, leaning back against the cupboards.

"What about you? You looked kinda _thinky_ in there just now." Santana used her famous finger quotes and Sara scrunched up her nose.

"I was thinky. Thinky about stuff. You know how it is. Mom's always on my back about helping with the twins and dad's never around to help her like I said."

Santana narrowed her eyes.

"That's shit stuff S. But, that's not what's got you so thinky."

Sara's face fell as though she were remembering something and Santana's affinity for her sister hit her square in the chest.

"Seriously, what's wrong?" she rested a hand on her shoulder and leant forward to look into Sara's eyes. They were wet with tears as she tried to hide them with the back of her hands, the dark brown echo of Santana's eyes showing signs of shame at her emotions.

"Sara…"

"I think…I think I'm like you."

Santana blinked.

"Well, you are. We're sister's that supposed to be like that. Same hair, same skin, same parents, same blood…"

"No I mean…I think I'm gay."

"Then it's possible we have the same taste in women, tell me who she is." Santana leant forward, her hands cupping Sara's as the girl looked away, hiding her tears.

"Charlie." Was all Sara managed and Santana nodded.

Charlie Greer was the sister of a play mate Anthon and Julian had when they were in kindergarten. She was the same age as Sara but went to a different school.

Charlie had dark auburn hair and sparkling green eyes, pale skin and was a little shorter than Sara (whom, despite inheriting most of her mother's features, managed to grow tall like her father, now just a head smaller than Santana herself). She was thin, athletic with a wicked sense of humour and an appetite for adventure. However exciting she was though, Santana knew that Charlie's sensitive side was what appealed to Sara. The girl used to help look after Anthon and Julian during their younger years and so showed how wonderfully mature she could be in emotion while being plain and simple for kids.

She reminded Santana of a certain blonde she knew.

"Good choice."

Sara let out a spluttering laugh.

"It wasn't a choice."

Santana nodded slowly.

"Have you talked about it with mami or papa?"

Sara shrugged.

"I tried…they just told me I was trying to copy you!" Sara replied, sighing and fiddling with Santana's fingers. "I thought, you would be the best person to talk to and you've been away…but now you're back."

Santana grimaced.

"Sara, baby girl. I may be your sister and we share a lot, but I don't how to give good advice. I'll listen and I'll help you if this is the way you want to live your life, but I'm not a good role model at all. I opened that closet door and tripped over every piece of fucking dirty washing I could find and nearly fell back in a few times."

Sara sighed and halted the attention she was administering on her sister's hands.

"So…is there no one I can talk to?"

Santana thought for a second.

"Of course. There are so many. I'd say Brittany but that's a bit well…."

"You're going thinky again."

"Sorry. Perhaps not Brittany, not Mami or Papa. There's always Quinn, I mean she's pretty good at advice..."

"Has Quinn told Rachel she's in love with her yet?"

"No." Santana replied thoughtlessly.

"Then I'm not taking advice from her." Sara shrugged.

"Wait, how did you know?"

Sara smirked.

"Does the phrase: _repressed lesbian, judgmental bitch, awesome gaydar_. Sound familiar bigger-me?"

Santana resisted the urge to ruffle her sisters' hair before carrying on.

"There's Rachel but she's undetermined, she claims to know a lot but she hasn't got any first-hand experience in coming out. Only her dads know what that's like."

Sara looked up.

"Then why don't I talk to them?"

Santana thought for a second.

"It's certainly a possibility. You want me to ask or do you wanna do it yourself?"

Sara bit her lip in thought and Santana watched her deliberation.

"I'll ask, but not right now. Sometime soon but, I need time to get used to this whole confusion thing…you know?"

Santana smiled and ran her fingers through the ends of Sara's black locks.

"Oh trust me, I know."

* * *

><p>When it had got to ten o clock Rachel had accepted that Quinn was not coming.<p>

When it had got to ten thirty Rachel had changed her mind.

Eleven o clock rolled past and Rachel decided she was stupid for thinking Quinn would actually come.

By half eleven she was setting a glass aside for the blonde just in case she decided to turn up for midnight.

Midnight passed without much drama, Santana kissing Rachel stiffly but gratefully on the cheek, the brunette returning the gesture with a hug and a peck on the temple.

If you had asked Rachel exactly a year ago that in three hundred and sixty five days she was going to be spending New Year's eve with Santana Lopez, laughing with her as a best friend as midnight came to pass, her dad's spending time with her family, eating food together, she would have laughed in your face.

And yet, it was one of the happiest New Year's celebrations Rachel had ever experienced.

There was a nagging feeling though, and as more often than not, blonde hair and hazel eyes were at the forefront of her mind.

She wondered whether Quinn had gone out with some colleagues from the diner, perhaps she'd tried to go back to her parent's, house…Either way Rachel prayed she wasn't sitting alone in her downtown bedsit listening to people spend New Year's together while she sat alone.

So one o clock came and went as Santana showed her sensitive side by tucking her brothers in to bed, her mother and father talking to Rachel's dads about something parental as Rachel sat watching the stars on the front porch with Sara.

They didn't talk; Rachel found that Sara was very much like Santana, especially when it came to the way they kept their emotions under stony poker-faces.

It was quarter to two when Sara decided enough was enough and she was going to bed. Laying a small Santana-like hand upon the brunette's shoulder she twitched her lips in a small smile and left Rachel upon the porch, staring at the sky.

As she sat she heard the sound of laboured footsteps upon gravel. Turning slightly she saw the bright orange end of a cigarette move about in the darkness behind a streetlamp. The footsteps continued and sure enough somebody moved in to the light.

Swaying slightly with three quarters of a bottle of scotch in her hand, Quinn Fabray took a long suck on the cigarette and subsequently threw it away over a car and into the road as she exhaled the smoke.

"Quinn!" Rachel tried hard not to sound too excited, but excited enough to show that she cared and that Quinn had actually been missed. Quinn choked on the smoke she was exhaling in fright, spluttering for air as Rachel waited for her to regain her composure.

"Fucking…Rachel….Shit…" came the reply as the blonde stumbled up the grass.

"Quinn Fabray!" Rachel frowned. "Are you drunk?"

As the blonde came to a stop on the porch she leant against the rail.

"Rachel." She shook her head, breathing fast after her choking session and repeating her name. "Santana invited me, but I didn't know whether I should come or not, whether I could. And I was, drinking to get up the courage but then I kept talking myself out of it, I meant to be here before midnight but then I got lost cause some jocks letting off fireworks in the park nearly hit me with them while I was taking a shortcut…"

Rachel thought about how endearing Quinn's babbling was. Not annoying and incessant like her own, but scatter-brained and rather cutely strung together with stutters and forlorn apologetic facial expressions.

The brunette did think that Quinn was going to pass out if she didn't stop, so she relieved the blonde of her explanation by holding up a hand.

"Quinn, come and sit down." She patted the cushions of the wicker sofa that she was sat on.

The other girl looked guilty still, but made her way haphazardly to the chair, tripping and collapsing half onto Rachel. Only slightly rolling her eyes, the brunette helped Quinn right herself.

She noticed with surprise, in a small part of her brain, at how comfortable Rachel was with Quinn half sprawled over her; as though it was familiar or something she was used to. It wasn't. The most times Rachel and Quinn had ever had body contact was when Quinn was trying to hurt Rachel, or when Rachel laid her hand over Quinn's in the diner a few days before.

"Sorry." Quinn mumbled and Rachel chuckled.

"It wasn't Santana's idea to invite you, you know." She replied after a few seconds silence.

"Wasn't it? Who's idea then?"

Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Who else _could_ it be?"

Quinn shrugged, playing with the cap on the bottle.

"Sara, maybe Mr Lopez…"

"Me, you idiot." Rachel interjected with a disparaging smirk.

Quinn turned to look at Rachel, staring at her in what Rachel took to be a calculating gaze.

"Why?" she asked in a small voice, her vulnerability showing on her thin exhausted face.

Rachel bit her lip, thinking about it for a second.

"Because I wanted you to be here. Santana for one, misses you like crazy, she doesn't know it, but when she falls asleep sometimes at my apartment all she talks about in her sleep is you, Brittany and Sara. Occasionally my name comes up, but not as much as yours."

Quinn looked thoughtful at this and Rachel continued.

"Also because I wanted things to change. I figured if Santana and I could put aside our differences then so could we. There were moments in high school when I believe we were able to tolerate and perhaps even enjoy each other's presence, however limited that time we spent together was. I think we could get along Quinn, if I wasn't so annoying and you weren't so sensitive to my being annoying."

Quinn's lips twitched into a sad smile.

"You tell me you want to try being friends, _after_ you offer me a space to live with you?"

Rachel chuckled and Quinn joined in.

"It is a little backwards isn't it." Rachel admitted and Quinn sighed in what she interpreted to be the beginning of some sort of confession or admission.

"I've been thinking about it." The blonde continued to play with the cap on the bottle of scotch, avoiding Rachel's eyes.

"Since my mom and dad kicked me out again, apart from Mike no one's been there for me. I was terrible to you Rachel, I was the worst person I could be towards you, and yet here you are, the knight in shining armour caring for me like I actually matter. I appreciate it, I really do, I don't deserve it and I know you know that too. I think you're a really good person."

Rachel waited as Quinn swallowed.

"I think that's why you offered first, you're a very emotionally in touch person. You always do what is right for your feelings; that is second only to your need for being a good person. A good person would see someone in a…difficult position and offer them help. At the diner you were being a good person, here and right now you're doing what's right for your feelings."

Rachel nodded, wondering vaguely if years of rambling had rubbed off Quinn's own speech patterns.

"Yes, but when I saw you outside Mandy's that first day back I felt it. I don't quite know what it was but I knew I wouldn't let that be the last I saw of you. The good Samaritan in me marries quite healthily to my emotional being and when I came to convince you to move to New York it was not just the intention of being a good person, but I actually felt as though life could give you so much more than it was at that moment." She explained.

Quinn smiled and took in a deep breath.

"New York, New York." She sang lightly and Rachel revelled in the sound, closing her eyes as Quinn continued to hum, broken only by the sound of the bottle shaking and a hefty swallow.

"Like I said I've been thinking about it." Quinn added and Rachel opened her eyes again, Quinn looking straight back at her.

"What's your conclusion?"

Quinn bit her lip.

"I'd like to take you up on it." She replied quietly and Rachel beamed, though she wasn't quite sure why.

"Fantastic, I'll let Santana know." She replied and they both looked out at the dark street, thinking about what they had just initiated. Rachel felt the chair move as Quinn put the bottle of scotch beside her leg on the floor.

"Rachel…"

She turned and was taken aback by the burning look in Quinn's eyes. It was the first time since high school Rachel had seen that look and before it had been anger but now it looked like passion, like need, like the real type of burning. Quinn was facing her, arm on the back of the chair, gazing intently at her with a look on her eyes of fear and inexplicable need.

Without a word the blonde's fingers moved to Rachel's, both of them not moving but watching with steady gazes as they linked together in Rachel's lap.

She swallowed.

She didn't understand why she was letting Quinn do this in the first place, let alone why on earth she felt it in the pit of her abdomen, on the back of her neck and knees, between her legs. She felt that incredible warmth spread about her body as she looked back up at Quinn.

Never dropping her gaze, Quinn moved forward, her other hand moving from the back of the sofa to rest lightly on the skin between Rachel's neck and shoulder. Rachel felt the soft fingertips on her hot skin; the goose bumps were not just left by the chill of Quinn's fingers but moreover just by their touch.

Quinn moved further forward, her face a few inches from Rachel's, gauging the brunette's reaction. All Rachel could do was stay still, not in horror but in pleasant and confusing shock. She was not attempting to stop Quinn, she knew what was coming. She had no idea how it was happening or whether Quinn really knew what she was doing.

Their breath mixed in the cool air just in front of them as Quinn moved closer. Rachel closed her eyes as both of them revelled in the closeness.

Instinctively Rachel leaned forward a millimetre, the scent and taste of Quinn's scotch, cigarette and sweet breath an intoxicating mix. Rachel had never condoned smoking and on anybody else it was horrible, but Quinn wore the scent well, sweet but not as tarry as others.

There are moments in life, where you become so close to something that the small stimuli on your skin feel as though you are actually in physical contact with it. This was that moment.

Amongst the soft breathing battering at her lips, Rachel could almost taste Quinn's lips, if she moved a bit closer it would have been possible, but something halted inside of her.

She felt it in Quinn too, they both stopped dead, the hands Quinn had lain on Rachel stiffening as her shoulders followed.

Rachel opened her eyes to see Quinn's still closed as she tilted her head away from facing Rachel but more to her own lap. A laugh that sounded more like a sob, racked through Quinn's body as she pulled away shaking her head.

"I'm so fucking drunk." She admitted to herself and Rachel tried to recover, filing away this experience to analyse later.

Shaking her stupor off she took the bottle from beside Quinn's leg.

"Where did you get this anyway?" she wrinkled her nose as she sniffed.

Another bitter laugh split the night air.

"When my dad kicked me out of his house, I stole the only thing that was more precious than god to him. I have like, three bottles of whisky and a few small flasks of his bourbon too. Oh, and I stole a bottle of mom's favourite wine."

Rachel let her eyebrows touch her hairline.

"Why?"

"I don't know. Out of spite, revenge. Part of me just wanted to go crazy like they said I was, so I thought about it, and this is what I came up with." She shrugged. "It's always a plus to go home to a full liquor cabinet after a long day."

Rachel pursed her lips together and moved the bottle to the small porch table beside her, folding her arms.

"Quinn…" she asked tentatively and the blonde looked up at her with wary eyes.

"Rachel?"

"Why…" she began but she faltered, thinking deeply how to word her query. "Why is it…that your parents threw you out? I mean, why they think you're crazy…you. You don't have to answer I just, was curious is all."

The silence wasn't awkward, but it reeked of thoughtful tension. Quinn looked at the watch on her hand and brushed her hands against her jeans.

"I think you already know Rach." Quinn whispered as her hot breath turned into steam before the moonlight.

Rachel quivered at the shortened version of her name; she was accustomed to Santana using it, but never Quinn. It had been a shock to hear the blonde say her full name in the first place. Her eyes narrowed in a stare of deep thought at the decking of the porch.

"I should probably go in and see S. I haven't seen her properly since…"

Rachel nodded and Quinn stood, offering her a small lopsided smile that seemed to knock the breath out of Rachel, before entering through the half open door of Santana's house.

It was then that Rachel was sure she knew the reasons for Quinn's becoming homeless.

She laughed a little hysterically to herself as she tried to remember ever knowing anyone who hadn't turned out to be at least a little bit gay. She sighed when she couldn't think of anyone, not even herself, and smiled to herself as she looked up once again at the stars.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven:

_Moving life along a road,_

_Can surely lead to more unknown._

It didn't take Quinn long to adjust to life with Rachel and Santana.

After much deliberation the three had decided it would be better if Quinn roomed with Santana, seeing as she had more space than Rachel did.

It was still a squeeze though, Quinn had to share a bed with Santana. She had tried taking the sofa at first but found all it did was screw up her back for days on end. So they grouped their money together and got a double bed just big enough for the two girls, Rachel chipping in also in her gusto to help make life better for Quinn.

They hadn't talked about what had happened on New Year's. It was as if it didn't happen, but both knew it did. They just wrote it off as an "in the moment thing" because they couldn't admit to themselves how much they had actually wanted to be crazy for once in their lives and do something like kiss someone out of the blue.

Rachel was taking it all in her stride though. Her ex enemy turned friend; that was surely to be a great few chapters in her memoirs. But Quinn wasn't just literary genius waiting to happen; she was actually someone Rachel had always been intrigued with.

And now, she knew she had good reason to be. Learning things about Quinn she had never known before was a rewarding experience. Quinn in turn was revelling in actually being able to be near Rachel without the girl flinching or going defensive.

Rachel noticed how much her life had changed since high school. The only people she would have considered her friends were Finn and perhaps Kurt and Mercedes when she was in McKinley and she would never have tried willingly to be in contact with Quinn or Santana. Brittany she would have liked to socialize with, but she was off limits from day one due to Quinn and Santana.

Now though, she and Brittany would speak rather frequently on the phone, sharing their lives across states while Rachel was able to fill the blonde in about both Santana and Quinn. She had asked a couple of times if Brittany was okay with hearing about the three of them in New York, in case she felt Rachel was shoving it down her throat and Brittany had denied feeling anything but gratitude.

"It's totally cool Rach." She had said, dropping in the nickname Rachel had acquired from her. "I mean, S never speaks to me anyway, not properly, she'll text but never ring, not after that one time. Q's used to be pretty chatty but then something happened, I'm not sure what and she told me she had no money to stay in contact as much. But now they're with you, I get the full stories on stuff."

Rachel knew Brittany was a great friend, not only to wards Quinn and Santana but she was becoming the same towards Rachel, and seemed such a caring person to everyone, even the worst of people she could assume the best in.

"Are you sure?" Rachel had queried one last time and Brittany had laughed.

"I trust you Rachel, that's why I'm fine with it." She had then added in a quiet heartfelt voice; "With you I know they're safe."

And, ironically, Rachel could honestly say she felt completely safe with Quinn and Santana too.

However, an unfortunate incident in late January saw Rachel feeling less than secure.

* * *

><p>"Yeah, I'll get the notes to you by Friday, but I swear to god Tan if you're going to give me the wrong translations I'll get Quinn to do it. Yes she knows Spanish! It's just a paragraph I need for literature…fine, do it between you then!" Rachel spoke into the phone tucked between her ear and shoulder, one arm carrying three bursting folders of paperwork, a coffee in one hand, and her keys in the other as she cradled her grocery shopping, thankful that her dad's still gave her an allowance while she searched for a job between college hours.<p>

"Sure thing. Si chica, Si!" Rachel groaned as Santana tried to bait her into speaking the tiny Spanish she knew.

She managed to get her hand free from the straps her bag and insert the key into the lock of her apartment door, it was then she noticed it. The frame was scratched and battered, bits of wood scattered about the floor. The door was already slightly open against the frame and the signs of forced entry didn't stop there.

Rachel was too horrified at what she was to find on the other side of her own apartment door that she daren't open it, just staring at the door with a shocked expression that weighed a ton upon her face, unable to answer's Santana's requests for a reply.

"Hobbit! For fucks sake Berry, answer me!" came the angry voice and Rachel finally registered, still staring at the door.

She began to shake, dropping her brown paper back, paperwork and coffee upon the floor as she backed away down the hallway, trying to steady herself on the walls as she held the phone with violently shuddering hands.

"Tan…Santana…" Rachel whimpered.

"Rachel? Rach what is it?" Santana's voice immediately changed to that of concern.

"Santana, I think someone's in my apartment…"

"I'll be right down." Came the resolute reply.

"Nuh, no!" Rachel squealed. "What if they have a knife or a gun or something?"

"I'll bring Q as a body shield." Santana vaguely managed some morbid humour before Rachel heard the phone move away from the girls face as she called through the apartment. "Tubbers! Get your coat!"

"Santana!" Rachel almost groaned, knowing she couldn't do anything to stop them now. "At least let me call the cops…"

She heard a sigh.

"Damn you ruining my badass super hero image, fine, call the cops. But we're still coming down."

* * *

><p>There was no way Quinn would let Santana go down there on her own and there were two very good reasons for that. Number one being Santana's safety; as her best friend she wanted to be there in case anything happened. But that was not the most important reason.<p>

Rachel was in trouble, either in very grave danger or in an unstable emotional state. This screamed volumes to Quinn. She had always had her motives for being so terrible towards Rachel before.

Upon her first day at McKinley she watched as the girl was shunned, bullied, shoved, tripped, and laughed at; all before lunch break.

From then on, in her own fucked up way, Quinn decided she was going to protect Rachel.

In being one of the worst tormentors towards Rachel, Quinn could ensure that no one was horrible to the girl beyond the benchmark that she herself set. Of course, Cheerio's took over, image took over, reputation and parental influence took over and soon Quinn found this backwards method of protection only worsening things. But being young and having a naïve view on things, it seemed like the prefect idea to keep this beautiful young girl safe without having to determine anything too rash about herself.

And so, as Quinn pulled her converse on, a t-shirt over her vest rushed over her messed mane of hair and a McKinley cheerio letterman jacket only lying open about her torso, she felt the panic of realization rise in her heart.

She wasn't the baddest bad guy anymore.

There were people above and beyond Quinn in the means of being terrible towards people, way beyond school bullies, terrible, dark people. People Quinn could not protect Rachel from, people even god could not protect Rachel from.

Her mind whirring out of control, she felt sick to her stomach, guilty for no reason apart from why she wasn't there to comfort Rachel already, to perhaps hold her arms and whisper into her hair, and Rachel would be so grateful for her arms that…

No. Quinn put her romantic deviation aside in her brain, concluding it was due to worry and anxiety. There would be no advantage to be open for taking tonight; Quinn was adamant that she needed Rachel to be safe, whatever it took.

She slid out of the bedroom to find Santana only just putting her coat on.

"S! Get the fuck going already!" she shrieked and sprinted out of the apartment.

Santana almost fell over in her wake, rolling her eyes until she let the old athlete within her catch her brain up and matched Quinn's speed.

They both would have found sanctity in feeling fifteen again, but they weren't focusing at all on that as they all but sprinted through the streets separating the four blocks from Santana's apartment to Rachel's.

When they arrived the cops were already there, blue flashing lights piercing the night just as effectively as the sirens as a second car arrived.

Quinn couldn't think of anything but finding Rachel, making sure she was safe. Why were there two police cars, had Rachel tried to go in the apartment? Had she been hurt, god had she been hurt? And why were there so many police cars, did they usually do that, unless…god….Rachel must be hurt…

"Quinn!" Santana pulled her sideways.

The blonde noticed she had been bouncing around the police cars, hands pressed on the glass, trying to see over them for signs of the brunette. Santana pulled her around the car and through the door and towards two police officers.

"Pull it together you idiot, Rachel is going to be a handful enough I need you to cope with her."

"Asdfklg" was all Quinn could muster as Santana cleared it with the two cops to venture on up the stairs towards Rachel's apartment.

They climbed the stairs, Quinn falling every other flight, grazing her hands in her haste to get to Rachel, once again leaving Santana behind. When she fell through the door to Rachel's level and ricocheted off of the door frame she grabbed the wall to steady herself, taking in the sight.

A police officer was stretching tape across the door of Rachel's apartment. Another was surveying and tagging plastic bags of what looked like evidence. A third officer was talking seriously into her radio. Quinn took a breath as she saw her.

Her eyes zeroed in on Rachel, sitting a little way along the hallway, staring blankly at the wall, her papers at her feet, her groceries everywhere and coffee stained from the bottom of her jeans to her knees.

A cop turned to Quinn and acknowledged her expression.

"We tried to get her to move, she's non-respondent, and we thought she was…well, when we got here it looked like…"

"Don't finish." Santana offered lowly and Quinn walked forward.

Pushing through the cops she dropped to her knees in the now cold coffee staining the floor before Rachel. They stared into each other's eyes for a time that never seemed long enough before Rachel's face crumpled and she fell forward into Quinn's arms.

"I got here, and the door was…and then they said they found…inside…my things…my pictures…Quinn they took my…my cassettes…they t-took my…"

Quinn closed her eyes, breathing the scent of a safe Rachel in, soothing her hair.

"Ssh Rach." She whispered and felt Rachel muzzle her wet cheeks and settle her face into the crook of her neck. Noticing absently how well she fit there, Quinn continued the ministrations on the girl's soft hair, ignoring her now soaking sticky knees. She opened her eyes and surveyed the corridor.

Santana looked on. She would never had told anyone but Quinn saw the tears of relief just in the corners of her eyes, only slightly trembling hands stilled by fists in her pockets. Quinn locked eyes with her and saw the recognition in Santana's own eyes. She knew what it was to be like this.

The blonde had always watched when someone tried to hurt Brittany, all through their life together Santana had jumped to her protection without a second thought and Quinn couldn't understand why she didn't do the same for her all the time.

She knew it that first day she saw Rachel and formed her backwards protection method.

It wasn't a conscious decision; just an obligation of the heart, there was no other way to be than everything you could for the person you loved.

Quinn was brave now, brave for herself and brave for Rachel. She had been told she was not worth the trouble by her parents, maybe that was so. But even if people weren't bothered with her anymore, she could definitely still serve purpose by being bothered with everyone else.

"Well, perhaps just a select few." Quinn thought as she watched Santana engross herself in a conversation with a cop, her eyes sliding back to where Rachel half laid in Quinn's lap upon the freezing stone floor of the hallway.

"Qu-inn." Rachel's voice cracked into Quinn's collarbone and the blonde's body shivered without any knowing consent.

"Yes?" she replied as Rachel pulled away, looking into her eyes. "What is it?"

The brunette sniffed, her eyes slightly rimmed with red, tears still fresh on her cheeks as trembling hands found their way to Quinn's own hands.

The small dainty, freezing fingers wound their way into Quinn's and the blonde felt her breath ease as Rachel's hands ceased trembling. Looking back up at Rachel's face she felt the diva squeeze. She squeezed her fingers back and they shared a small smile as Rachel stifled a yawn.

"You think we could get out of here?" she asked tentatively and Quinn choked her own yawn on a laugh.

"You make life sound like an old romantic fifties movie sometimes." She admitted and Rachel frowned, her mouth turned up on one side.

"Sorry." Quinn added with a shrug. "Just how my mind works."

She looked around and saw that all of the cops were still busy. She pulled herself up, keeping hold of Rachel's hand. When she hit full height though she found the diva had not moved.

"I…I think I need a little help." She admitted quietly and Quinn felt her heart warm at how much Rachel was letting her pride go for her.

Rachel Berry was a can-do person, she was the strong person for every weakness you had, there existed to be nothing Rachel Berry didn't have the right attitude for succeeding in.

Except standing it seemed. Bending down, Quinn all but scooped the smaller girl from the floor and swept her up into a standing position.

"Thank you." Rachel blushed, avoiding eye contact.

Santana cleared her throat tiredly and they turned to see her rubbing her forehead as she yawned. When she saw they were looking she jerked her head towards the door.

"Cops said we can leave." She managed only just coherently through her hoarse throat.

Quinn nodded and turned back to Rachel.

"Right, let's get you some sleep."

"Sleep sounds good." Rachel nodded her head.

They began walking toward the staircase, thanking the cops as Santana sped her way in front of them.

"She's not mad." Quinn clarified at Rachel's confused and slightly hurt look. "She is worried, just fucked up at the moment because she's really tired. Being emotional seems to make her tired a lot actually."

The blonde continued her musings as they slowly managed the stairs.

At the bottom of the last flight Quinn hit the floor before Rachel, turning just in time to see the brunette slip. Out of instinct she grabbed her, stilling her before she lost her balance totally.

Rachel could be found once again in Quinn arms for what was the third time that evening. Smiling and ducking her head to hide her embarrassment again, Rachel pulled away, only to find Quinn's arm secure around her waist.

The blonde smiled and rolled her eyes in amusement.

"I'm here to support you." Quinn stated simply, hoping that Rachel could see past her amusement into the double meaning.

"Thank you." Rachel replied with as much of an undercurrent of her own, slipping her arm over Quinn's thin shoulders.

They made their way slowly in Santana's wake, keeping the raven haired girl just in sight. When they finally managed the stairs to the girl's apartment, Santana gestured for Quinn to lead Rachel into the bedroom.

She did so, laying the only half-awake brunette under the covers, pulling her shoes off and leaving them by the side so she could find them if need be. Turning to leave the bedroom, Quinn was met with Santana's hand on her shoulder.

"Stay in here tonight." Santana all but ordered in the low tones just over a whisper.

"No, S. I'll take the couch…"

"Stay in here tonight." Santana repeated. "You need that as much as she does."

Sighing thoughtfully, Quinn nodded and Santana's lips pulled up in a half smile.

"No sweet lady kisses in my bed Q." She whispered as she left the room, pulling the door to the frame but leaving it open just a crack.

Quinn chuckled and shook her head, turning off the main light and leaving the bedside lamp on beside Rachel. She sat on the bed in the crook created by Rachel's curved legs as the brunette cradled her face towards the wall.

Watching the girl lightly doze was an experience Quinn could never forget. She had wanted to sit there near the girl and watch her content with the world since forever, smiling at the small twitches in Rachel's fingers. She reached out, tracing a finger lightly between the locks of hair over her cheek.

Quinn mentally chastised herself as Rachel stirred.

"Sorry for taking your bed." Rachel murmured and Quinn chuckled.

"It's not a problem, it's S you've usually got to worry about and she said it's fine."

Rachel nodded and looked over to the space next to her. Laying a hand upon it she turned to look at Quinn.

"Are you…?"

Quinn nodded slowly, laying a calculating gaze upon Rachel, surveying her reaction as she stood. Kicking her converse off and hanging her letterman upon the door she stretched, turning towards Rachel again who was wide eyed and biting her lip.

"What?" Quinn asked frowning and Rachel swallowed, pointing towards the jacket.

"It…just" she faltered and swallowed again. "It just looks like a person, that's all."

Quinn turned and looked at the jacket; she couldn't see it but if Rachel wanted it moved then…

"I can put it on the floor if you want." She shrugged and Rachel shook her head.

"No it'll get dirty."

"It's a jacket Rach, that's what it does, it gets wet and dirty."

"So we agree Santana's a jacket now?"

Quinn couldn't help the peal of loud laughter that ripped out of her throat. Rachel had that tendency to just be acutely comedic at times and very cleverly funny.

"I'm serious though." She turned and looked at Rachel. "I'll move it."

Rachel pursed her lips.

"I don't want it to get ruined."

Rolling her eyes, Quinn took the jacket and folded it in half, placing it upon the desk wedged into the corner of the room.

"There, it doesn't look like a person and it won't get dirty. Better?" Quinn turned to Rachel who smiled minutely and nodded.

"Sorry." She sighed as Quinn climbed over her into the space between Rachel and the wall. "I don't know what it is, but ever since I was a little kid I've hate having clothing hanging in my room that isn't in my closet or anything. I'd wake up in the dark and if there was a jacket hanging up I'd scare myself into thinking it was someone trying to get me."

Quinn lay back as Rachel explained, watching the emotions on her face.

"And, after tonight's events…you can imagine."

"Totally understandable." Quinn agreed and Rachel turned to look at her.

They maintained eye contact for a while as Quinn settled even further back into the headboard of the bed. Rachel shuffled closer tentatively. A hint of a smile played at Quinn's lips as she arched an eyebrow and open her arms slowly.

"You…you wouldn't mind?" Rachel asked.

In response, Quinn reached over and pulled her backwards into her, the brunette's arms falling around her stomach and her head falling into the crook of her neck.

"Thank you." Rachel offered again and Quinn dismissed it.

"I just want you to be okay."

Rachel nodded into Quinn's neck.

"I know if this were a year ago we would be at each other's throats…" Quinn began in regret and Rachel pulled back to look at her.

"Quinn." She whispered. "It's not a year ago, this is now. Things have changed, we've changed. It took me a while to do this with Santana because she kept reminding me of how sorry she was but…we should forget it. We're different now."

Quinn nodded.

"I can do that." She agreed and Rachel settled her head back into her neck. "I don't know what it is Rachel, I know Santana mentioned it but, something about you is just so…relaxing I don't know how to explain it, especially since you're so worked up all the time. I think it's to do with the feeling that you've got everything sorted all of the time."

Quinn felt Rachel smile against her collarbone and almost sighed at the contact.

"I feel safe with you too." Rachel murmured, placing a light peck to the column of Quinn's throat, the only spot she could reach from her overly comfortable position.

Quinn begged her body to calm down after Rachel pressed her lips briefly to the soft skin of her neck. Sitting there, head and back pressed awkwardly against the headboard, pulse thundering through her veins just as fast as the thoughts in her stupidly overactive mind, she knew a good night's sleep was out of the question.

She paused in her thoughts to listen to the deep breathing of the girl in her arms, a light snore vibrating against her own chest. Stifling a laugh but letting the smile grow huge on her face she knew that though sleep was not on the agenda, it was worth the lack of comfort and exhaustion just to revel in having Rachel in her arms.

She wanted to stay awake anyway, because this was the first time anything remotely as wonderful as this had happened to her outside of her dreams.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight:

_The safety felt when with a friend,_

_Is security until the end._

Quinn awoke to find her arms empty, the covers over her chest instead. She was also not lying in the same place against the headboard as where she had fallen asleep. She laid fully upon the bed now, her head in the space where Rachel's pillows were, her legs and body stretched out over the rest of the bed.

Shaking her head to wake herself up she threw the covers off, finding herself still in her stiff skinny jeans and blue t-shirt. She smelt bacon as she opened the door and padded down the hallway.

"God, I'm so sorry if I kicked you out of the bed Rach, I've been told I fidget…" she moaned as she entered the kitchen, rubbing her eyes.

"It's fine Quinn you have nothing to worry about." Rachel replied and Quinn yawned widely, opening her eyes fully before her jaw dropped.

Rachel stood cooking bacon in a frying pan with nothing on but small black shorts and a pale green top that looked vaguely familiar to Quinn. It hugged her figure on the curves perfectly and Quinn had to almost use her hands to shut her jaw as Rachel reached over the counter to grab a towel and the top rode up a tad, revealing the small of Rachel's back.

The brunette turned and Quinn quickly put her tongue back in, making her way to the stool on the other side of the counter.

"Oh!" Rachel clicked her fingers. "I hope you don't mind. I had nothing else to wear and Santana refused me access to her wardrobe for some reason."

"It's because I likes to keep my baby lesbians in proper order in there!" Santana called from the living room and Rachel sniggered while Quinn swallowed, looking anywhere but Rachel.

Quinn looked up and suddenly realized that Rachel was wearing one of her favourite t-shirts. It was also one she had longed to keep a secret.

"Umm, I don't think that top is mine anyway." She coughed and Rachel let out a loud laugh.

"Santana thought you'd say that. I had more faith in your honesty Quinn."

She turned and pulled at the fabric around her middle, showing off the design to Quinn.

It was a t-shirt printed with a gaming controller upon the chest ("a Nintendo Snez to be precise" Quinn thought proudly) and framing it were the words:

"_They call my joystick the fat controller_…" Rachel read aloud, managing not to laugh as Quinn blushed.

"It's a really, really long story and I 'm not sure you have enough time." She deflected and Rachel leant against the counter.

"I have too much of exactly that same thing! Welcome to the weekend it seems to be full of…_time…" _She smiled and Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Mike and I went to a gaming convention." She admitted, looking away.

Rachel leant forward in interest.

"Oh really now?"

Sighing, Quinn decided she'd better get the whole story out instead of letting Rachel make assumptions or ask continuous questions.

"We went to the release of a new manual for gamers looking to get into the older, retro styles of games. We knew some guys there from the comic convention we had gone to a few weeks before and so we went around with them. We got to the t-shirt stall and Mike's friend Reez dared us all to get one and wear it."

Quinn regarded Rachel's small smirk.

"The forfeit was either running around the convention pretending we were Pikachu, zapping people or, seeing as I was the only girl; I had to make out with one of them. I think it was all a trick just to get those gamer boys some action but I just got the shirt…I kinda like it." She finished lamely and Rachel bit her lip, resting her chin on her hand as she surveyed Quinn.

"You know, I originally thought you were too scared to be anything but popular at high school." She laughed and Quinn chuckled.

"Actually…" Quinn blushed. "I've always been a nerd."

Rachel arched an eyebrow as she continued to cook the bacon.

"Well, now I know, the Gameboy in the back of physics makes sense."

Quinn opened her mouth.

"You noticed? Why didn't you say, I could have been seen by a teacher!"

"Yes, I was about to tell _Quinn Fabray_ to put her Gameboy down. There's two things there Quinn, you would have eaten me alive for pointing out your secretive nerd self and then it would have drawn attention and your Gameboy would have been confiscated which would have again resulted in your eating me alive."

Quinn nodded, restricting her dirty mind when Rachel mentioned her eating the girl…alive.

Rachel tipped the bacon onto a plate and set it down in front of Quinn that was when something in the blonde's head clicked.

"But, Rachel you're vegan." She frowned and Rachel waved a hand.

"I'm not eating it, I'm a loose vegan, Santana's managed to pull me into some sort of relaxed state about milk and eggs so I'm changing my mind about dairy I guess. Meat though, that's still a little iffy…"

Quinn looked down at the plate and then back up at her.

"You didn't need to do this."

Rachel looked up and smiled as she washed out the pan.

"It's the least I could do after you kept me company last night."

Quinn felt the rush of heat in her veins at the memory. They continued with their eye contact until a voice was heard from the door.

"Wow…" Santana grumbled. "The awkward moment when you walk into the kitchen and the place smells like pressed lemons."

"What are you talking about S?" Quinn frowned and Santana cupped a hand to her ear.

"Oh, wait. Is that lesbian sexual tension I hear? My, oh my, it's loud today!"

Rachel laughed and Quinn groaned.

"When are you going to give up and accept Rachel is straight San? She's not going to turn for you…" Santana flipped her the bird as she moved behind Rachel to drop a coffee mug into the water of the sink.

"Loosen up Q, you seem a little tense." She smirked.

"Yeah, Quinn. Who said I was straight?" Rachel turned, hands on hips and eyebrow arched enough to give Quinn a run for her money.

Quinn and Santana regarded each other's shocked looks over Rachel's shoulder.

"And if there was any better time to leave it would be now." Santana nodded to herself, grabbing her keys from the pot on the side.

"Where are you off too?" Rachel asked and Santana turned.

She smiled, a blush hitting just the top of her cheeks in pleasure.

"Radley's on fifth." She admitted and Rachel raised her eyebrows in amusement as she left the apartment.

"Back later!" the Latina called and shut the door behind her.

"Radley's?" Quinn asked as she turned to Rachel whom was continuing to clear up.

"It's a junk store basically. Santana raids it every few weeks for new additions."

Quinn frowned.

"New additions, to what?"

"Her collection."

She groaned.

"Rachel, it's far too early to be cryptic."

Rachel turned and wiped her hands on a towel, nodding towards the plate before Quinn.

"Eat your breakfast."

"But Rach you have to explain."

"Eat your breakfast Quinn." Rachel replied before walking out of the kitchen with a smirk on her face.

Quinn watched her go, eyes glued to those little black shorts. She attempted to eat as Rachel walked away but only succeeded in biting her own finger.

Wincing she cursed herself, that girl would be the death of her.

* * *

><p>"I can't go back there Tan."<p>

Rachel stared out of the window, the rain battering against the pain as she listened to Santana murmuring to herself, unpacking the things she had purchased at Radley's earlier that day.

"I just can't." she added and Rachel rested a finger on the condensation upon the window. She let it slide down, gravity taking control, marking the surface.

She heard a huff of breath and turned as Santana came to stand at the window next to her, fingering the edge of a large square object within a paper bag.

"It's not safe." Rachel looked from Santana's eyes out onto the rainy street again. "I'm going to have to buy a new apartment. It's going to be a financial push, but what is dollars against safety?"

There came a heavy silence after that, broken only by the constant percussive sounds of raindrops breaking against the window and the wind whistling through the panes every now and then. Rachel thought about her little apartment by the park, it's bare white walls that had never quite lived up to her old yellow bedroom walls, but somehow managed to make her feel at home. The carpet, threadbare and scuffed, it reminded her of her old friend Kurt a little, she couldn't make any real connection as to why, only the phrase "walked all over but still had character," settled in her mind as an explanation.

"You're freaking stupid sometimes, you know that?" Santana muttered thoughtfully, her breath fogging up the line Rachel had drawn into the condensation.

Rachel turned in confusion and disbelief as Santana leant against the wall, facing her. She frowned as the other girl continued to apply attention to the edge of the bag.

"I love how you kick me when I'm down, trust me having you as a friend it becomes somewhat endearing, but really, you're going to have to explain the reason for your insult this time."

Santana chuckled softly at the brunette's outburst.

"You're stupid because, you said you need to get a new place."

Rachel rolled her eyes and Santana cocked her head to the side.

"What?" she asked and Rachel sighed.

"I knew you'd think I was being a coward." She said sadly as she regarded a group of soaked pigeons roosting in the opposite building's roof.

"It's not that." Santana groaned, laying the paper bag upon the window sill and lacing her hand through Rachel's cold digits. The smaller girl turned and Santana pulled her into a hug, letting Rachel rest her head on her shoulder.

"Rach, I don't want you to go back there. It's not safe. I don't think you're stupid really, I think you're really clever and unassuming. Unassuming 'cause you hadn't even thought about asking me or Quinn whether you could stay here."

Rachel pulled back and looked up, watching Santana's facial expression as she avoided her eyes.

"Well. Since you're not asking, I'm telling." She continued resolutely. "I want you to come here, live with Q and I. You'll be safe, you're closer to college."

"I don't want to impose Tan. As wonderful as it sounds, there would be no room for me to sleep. We agreed Quinn should move in here when she got to New York because it had more room than mine. In hindsight it must have been a premonition due to the security risk of my own apartment, but I would be a hindrance."

Santana chuckled.

"You? A hindrance? I don't think I could love you as much if you weren't so fucking annoying." She grinned and Rachel laughed, letting her head fall against Santana's shoulder.

"Still, Santana. Where will I sleep?"

"We'll cross that when we come to it." Santana shrugged and Rachel moved out of the embrace, leaning against the window sill.

"Look, you need to stay here a while till they get your apartment fixed up and your stuff back. See how you like it; we're not that bad Q and I, not to live with anyway."

Rachel thought about it under Santana's watchful gaze.

She knew that her own apartment was indeed off limits for a while, until the secured evidence enough to charge the people whom had stolen things and of course, recovered her belongings.

She also knew what Santana was up to.

Santana knew Rachel was scared, finding out somewhere so close to your heart had just been ripped open and infiltrated was nothing short of petrifying. Since they found each other in New York, they have been each other's protection and support. The need Rachel felt to protect Santana in all of her endeavours and situations must have been reflected by Santana's same need towards Rachel herself.

She was offering her a place to live, because she didn't trust the rest of the world with Rachel anymore, not for a while anyway.

"I'm sorry." Santana admitted, picking up the paper bag again.

"Well, now _I'm_ confused. What is there to apologise for?" Rachel folded her arms, watching Santana awkwardly tracing the corner of the bag with her palm.

"I…you…" she shrugged. "You don't _have_ to come live here. I sort of, didn't think about you not wanting to, only you declining out of pride…it's totally fine if you don't want to live here."

She offered Rachel a small sheepish smile before twisting the paper bag in her hands and walking back to the sofa.

"Tan." Rachel sighed in amusement, watching as the taller girl turned back.

"You _know_ I'd love to live here. But, let's just see how the next few days go, It would be an adjustment for all of us."

Rachel watched as Santana tried to hide her happiness behind a stiff nod.

"Sure thing Rach." She bowed her head once and sat down, turning her attention back to the purchases she made earlier that day.

Smiling, Rachel perched herself up on the window sill, watching Santana's face light up as she unpacked them.

"So, anything good today?" she asked absently as she drew circles in the condensation.

Santana laughed.

"You won't believe me when I say this…but I found it." She beamed, holding up the square paper bag.

"It?" Rachel asked in disbelief.

"Yes…_it._" Santana replied waving the object in her hand.

Rachel launched herself from the window sill and stumbled across the room to sit on the sofa, sitting down next to Santana and clapped her hands together excited.

They traded looks as Santana held it in her hands.

* * *

><p>Quinn yawned, rubbing her eyes as she went to knock the door. Remembering Santana's disregard for safety, even after Rachel's apartment got ransacked, she went ahead and tugged at the handle, shaking her head when the door just opened with a click.<p>

Stepping inside she shucked her leather jacket off, retrieving her lighter, cigarettes and wallet from the pockets before stretching and continuing toward the living room. She stopped when she heard squealing.

"Oh my god, Tan, please!"

That was Rachel's voice Quinn recognised with a large break in her heartbeat. She sounded desperate, breathlessly desperate.

"Rach, what if Quinn doesn't understand?" a voice that could only be Santana's replied in a voice just over a whisper, a whisper of trepidation but thrill.

"Please! She'll be fine with it. This is something I have to experience, it's of the utmost importance, you said so yourself not very long ago."

"But Rach…"

"Put it on Santana." Rachel's voice was deep and dark. Quinn felt a shiver run down her spine as she closed her eyes, half of her body was bathing in hurt, and the other half was very focused on the spot tingling just between her legs.

There was a pause.

"Are you sure?" Santana sounded excited, quivery excited.

"Yes I'm sure; I've been waiting for this ever since you mentioned it!" Rachel replied with the same quiver.

Quinn felt the anger rise in her throat, the snarling jealousy breaking all train of thought and decency she had to give the two girls the benefit of the doubt. She saw red, it tinged everything she laid eyes on, ruining it, making it undistinguishable from her anger.

She tore the door open and stood there, clenched fists, the pure fury rolling off of her in waves.

"What…the…fuck..." she managed to choke out as she took in the sight of the two girls.

Quinn hadn't exactly wanted to imagine them naked (well…not Santana anyway) and going at it on the sofa, but that's what had sprung to mind. However, the moment she stepped in through the door her furious eyes had taken in a very different scene.

Santana and Rachel indeed where upon the couch, but very much clothed. They sat before the coffee table, upon it a stack of square paper bags, thinly piled together as though the person ordering them had a disorder reminiscent of Ms Pillsbury.

Rachel looked over Santana's shoulder and smiled hugely.

"Quinn!"

Santana turned around.

"Oh, about time Fabray!"

Quinn just stared on, she couldn't be more confused as Santana frowned at her and Rachel beamed. Even those chocolate brown eyes smiling at her couldn't cure her bewildered brain.

"Jeez Q, what crawled up your ass?"

She stepped forward out of her fury and shook her head.

"I thought you two were…"

She shook her head again as she sat on the beanbag opposite the sofa and coffee table. Rachel and Santana traded a look, remembering their previous conversation. Rachel consequently falling about in delightful laughter as Santana blinked slowly.

"I think I just barfed in my mouth…"

Quinn expected Rachel to turn and give Santana a look at that point, but apparently it only made her laugh harder.

She sat up and looked Quinn square in the eye.

"You're assumptions amuse me so much Quinn, first you assume I'm straight, then you assume I'm desperate."

Santana rolled her eyes and gave Rachel a shove at this.

"So…you're not straight."

Quinn and Rachel stared at each other, amusement diffusing into hopeful tension. Santana cleared her throat and waved the square packet in her hand.

"You're just in time." She smiled and Quinn turned her attention to the girl as Rachel bit her lip and nodded to herself.

"What for?" she inquired, watching Santana smirked over the top of the pile of paper bags.

"The unveiling of the newest addition to my collection…"

Santana stood, walking away towards a wardrobe beside the far window of the apartment. It was old and its wood was stained and dark. Quinn watched as, smiling to herself, Santana opened the doors. Quinn gasped. Inside the wardrobe was half filled with large drawers, upon the surface of these drawers was the second most amazing thing she had seen in her life.

The gleaming parts of the old record player glistened as Santana wiggled the square paper bag in her hand at Quinn. She unsheathed it and Quinn noticed it was a record, a real old record.

Santana, with the fingers of an expert, slid the black disk from between its paper envelope, picked up the needle and placed the record upon the record player. A click sounded and the record began spinning, throwing a smirk over her shoulder at Quinn and Rachel she picked up the needle.

"Ready?" Santana asked and Rachel clapped her hands. Quinn turned to look at her and found those brown glistening eyes alive with excitement. Santana chuckled lowly and slowly placed the needle at the beginning of the record.

Quinn felt shivers run down her spine as the old crackling sound of old vinyl records filled the apartment, then the sound of strings and brass, a slow evening jazz rim shot beat accompanying.

The lyrics came in and Santana could be heard singing along.

"Look at me; I'm as helpless as a kitten, up a tree…"

Hearing the Latina sing to the old record, Quinn's mouth dropped open. She always had known Santana was an awesome singer, ever since she helped them so much with Valerie in glee, but this was different. Santana was a passionate person, she didn't show it much, only in her sassiness, but she definitely was. And here, here is where Quinn saw Santana's true unchecked passion, rhythmically flowing through the air as she sang.

"And I feel like I am clinging to a cloud, I can't understand…I get misty…just holding your hand…."

Smirking, Santana beckoned for Rachel to come to her, the smaller brunette obliging.

Quinn moved to the sofa, watching as Santana continued to sing, taking Rachel's hand and spinning her in. She witnessed as they danced, slowly and gracefully. Santana's front was upon Rachel's back, hands entwined before the smaller girl's stomach. Rachel closed her eyes and leant her head back upon Santana's shoulder, the taller girl continuing to sing.

"Walk my way, and a thousand violins begin to play…"

At this, Santana stepped around Rachel, pulling her into a spin as she led her in a graceful step along the length of the living room.

"Or it might be the sound of your…hello…" Santana sang, pulling Rachel into her front, a hand lay upon the smaller girl's waist, the other leading their clasped hands together in a sultry slow dance, stepping expertly around each other.

"That music I hear, I get misty the moment you're near…"

Quinn had a distinct feeling that she was intruding, as though this was something they had been doing for a while. Though it wasn't as sexual as Quinn first thought was going on in the room, she realised she had indeed walked in on something romantic. She checked herself on that last thought. They were not being romantic towards each other, no; this was Rachel acting and Santana using her as a support for the person who really should have been there in her arms.

Rachel was a good actress, she always had been, so Quinn could not tell if she was truly as emotional towards this moment as Santana was when she closed her eyes. Santana though, she was fully invested in the words, the feeling of warmth against her body, she didn't care that it was Rachel, that nothing would happen beyond that dancing, for at that moment, Rachel was Brittany. A few heads shorter and brunette, but she was her love all the same.

Either way, Quinn still felt out of place. Smiling sadly to herself, she stood from the couch and went to walk away, hands in her pockets.

Until she felt a hand on her wrist.

She turned, seeing Santana by the record player, eyes closed, leaning against the wall, hands clasped around each other beside her chest. Clutching at her own arm was Rachel, smiling benignly. Quinn watched as Rachel slowly pulled her hand up her arm, caressing it as she reached the shoulder, moving away and holding out her hand in the age old symbol that one used to ask for a dance.

Quinn couldn't tell if the unnecessary touch was out of the character Rachel was representing or out of real feeling, mutual need. She shrugged it off in her mind regardless as she studied the hopeful look on her friends face.

She let herself be taken in that moment. She let her heart fall into the open hands of Rachel Berry, the palm that was the perfect heat as her cold hand slid from her lukewarm pocket and into the other limb.

Rachel smiled and pulled Quinn back into the room properly, twisting and slowly laying herself up against Quinn's chest, resting her head in the crook of her neck. Quinn felt her other hand being grabbed by Rachel and tentatively layed on her hip. Satisfied that it would stay there, Rachel then trailed her hand up Quinn's arm again, leaving more goose bumps, and hung it lazily around her neck.

Quinn closed her eyes and revelled in the way Rachel felt beside her, hands clasped as Rachel lead the way in a soft and sexy sway that didn't more largely at all from where they stood.

"You can say that you're leading me on, but that's just what I want you to do…"

Santana sang and Quinn swallowed the lump in her throat at both the pain in her heart and in her other friends voice, opening her eyes she saw Santana regarding them with soulful eyes, connecting with Quinn in a stare over Rachel's head.

"Don't you notice how hopelessly lost I am, that's why I'm following you…"

Closing her eyes again as Rachel twisted them across the floor, lost in their closeness Quinn obliged.

"On my own, I wander through this wonderland alone, never knowing my right foot from my left foot…"

Rachel giggled as she helped Quinn turn her, it was less than successful but Quinn beamed back, tongue between teeth as she concentrated.

"My hat from my glove…" Santana's eyes were closed again as Rachel pulled Quinn almost forcefully to her so they were waist to waist.

They stared at each other from their respective heights, brown meeting hazel in an earthy battle of concentration. Quinn let a smile ghost across her lips as Rachel licked her own, they continued their stare, the earthy colours all but mixing in the air as the chemistry ran through them.

"I'm too misty and too much in love…" Santana's broken voice sang from the wall, eyes closed, heavy breathing as a tear ran down her face, clutching at the door of the wardrobe for support.

The word's broadcast themselves in halos over the two dancing in the middle of the floor, the record still crackling.

"I'm too misty…" came the whisper of Santana's voice. "and too much…"

Rachel felt Quinn's breath on her face again, tasting it at the back of her throat. She looked into hazel, still unsure how these moment's kept happening, and why on earth they seemed to feel so damned right all the time, even in the worst moment possible.

"In…love…" the record drawled out, Santana unable to finish as she sank back onto the wall, watching with damp eyes as Quinn let herself succumb once again to the broken promise of Rachel.

Quinn closed her eyes, her heart nearly leaping out of its chest to join with Rachel's. They both started however when the needle fell from the edge of the record.

Opening their eyes slowly, Rachel eye's looked full of emotion as she stepped back, her hands still linking with Quinn as she pulled away, dropping only at the last minute as she turned with a small, sad smile and walked to Santana, pulling the Latina into a hug.

"Sarah Vaughan." Santana managed to say over the smaller girl's shoulder. "You should listen to her stuff Q, I've got it all here, just…just ask if you want to listen."

Quinn nodded, hands that limply fallen into her pockets after Rachel had left her. She felt the cool metal of her lighter and bit her lip. Pulling it out, she held it up in gesture for the two girls and jerked her head towards the door. They nodded in turn and Quinn took her leave.

She had to escape the heat of the apartment, she had to escape the feeling of Rachel's hand behind her neck, in her own hands, her body so close, her mind farther away than ever thought before. Grabbing her leather jacket she slipped into it, closing the door behind her she made her way down the stairs and out into the rain, letting it soak her hair, her clothes.

Letting it wash away the feeling of Rachel.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine:

_The places that we've been before,_

_Aren't always going to leave us sore._

Rachel stretched herself out on the bed, scowling as she looked up at the ceiling.

Santana lay next to her, arms over her face, legs entwined with the covers, occasionally letting out a muffled snort of breath. Turning over, Rachel shivered.

Santana's jacket hung on the edge of the door, it's sleeve draped as though it was a person leaning on the door itself. The door was open and the dark behind it seemed to engross the room as Rachel watched, her imagination letting the jacket morph into a masked figure, advancing it's tendrils toward her across the room.

Shaking the sudden fright off, Rachel swung her legs out of bed and pulled her body to stand onto the floor, rolling herself out fully. Biting her lip and ignoring the clammy sweat on the back of her neck, she slipped through the door and down the hallway, following the sound of steady-paced breathing and the smell of white musk and fuchsia.

The comfort already spreading over her, she entered the living room to see the lamp beside the sofa still on and a mane of golden hair glistening in the light as it stuck over the edge of the arm.

"Quinn?"

The blonde mane twitched and Rachel watched as Quinn's head popped up over the top of the sofa as she sat up.

"Rach?" came the reply. "What are you doing up?"

Twisting her hands nervously together she made her way around the sofa to see Quinn laying out, her back propped up against the arm as she read a book beneath the light.

Rachel paused, taking in the sight of the glasses upon the end of Quinn's nose. They weren't thick framed, but they had dark black edges, framing Quinn's hazel eyes as she looked on at Rachel, confusion on her face.

"I…Tan's jacket…and…"

She tried to explain, regarding the slight smile that fell upon Quinn's lips as the girl moved the book to rest it on the coffee table. Shifting, the blonde threw back the blanket and sat up so her back rested against the back of the sofa, one leg falling off the edge of the couch, the other crooked at the knee, creating a small circular shape upon the cushion. She patted the sofa and Rachel moved forward tentatively.

The blonde pulled her down and she fell, sitting in the space between Quinn's legs, resting in her arms against her chest.

"Santana left her jacket hanging up on the door again huh?" Quinn asked and Rachel nodded against her warm chest.

Rachel couldn't explain the way she felt when Quinn had her arms around her. It was as though she were at peace with the world. Quinn's musky fuchsia scent lulled her into comfort. The warmth that spread into her and chased away the clamminess of her small panic was easy and slow.

She listened to Quinn's soft heartbeat, its rhythm driving but soothing.

"I keep telling her not to do that, sorry." The blonde added and Rachel closed her eyes, smiling at how sincere Quinn sounded.

"Don't worry. I can cope, just tonight I couldn't sleep and…I don't know…I just really…"

"Needed to go on a scary adventure down the dark hall and make sure I hadn't turned into a monster either?"

Quinn tried to finish for her but Rachel laughed and continued.

"Rather more I came on a short walk through a dark place to find you thankfully awake."

Rachel felt Quinn's chuckle vibrate next to her cheek as she looked up from her spot on the girl's chest.

"What were you reading anyway?" Rachel asked, moving her hand towards the book. When she couldn't reach it, Quinn laughed again and retrieved it for her, bringing it up to show her.

Rachel studied the book as she took it from Quinn's hands.

"I never knew you had such eclectic tastes." She admitted as she read the blurb to _Leaves of Grass_.

"Just like you never knew I could be nerd right?" Quinn mused back and Rachel nodded.

She handed the book back to Quinn and watched as she placed it upon the coffee table, removing her glasses from her nose and folding them at the arms, laying them upon the book. She rubbed the bridge of her perfect nose and leant back into the cushions of the sofa, Rachel shifting farther up her chest to rest her head on her shoulder.

"I never knew you wore glasses either." She added and Quinn chuckled.

"I thought you'd seen those pictures of Lucy?"

Rachel frowned in thought, pulling her head up from her shoulder to look into Quinn's eyes.

"But Lucy is you Quinn."

"Hence the glasses." Quinn grinned, tapping her nose and Rachel laughed, bowing her head back into the warmth that was the crook of Quinn's neck.

"I'm so tired." She confessed in a hysterical chuckle and Quinn smiled.

Rachel felt the movement as Quinn pulled the covers over the both of them.

"I still can't believe I let you sleep on the couch." Rachel yawned and Quinn copied.

"It makes no difference. I don't mind sleeping in chairs at all, their rather comfortable, like someone's arms around you…" Quinn trailed off and Rachel looked up.

"Are…" she stopped herself and Quinn looked down at her.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Rach…"

"Are you comfortable?"

Quinn wrinkled her nose and inclined her head.

"Now, yes, in the morning I won't be."

Rachel stood from the couch and Quinn grabbed her hand.

"You don't have to leave. Just let me get comfortable then you can come back okay?"

She saw the encouragement in Quinn's eyes, the undeniable safety that emanated from them. Rachel nodded and watched as Quinn stretched back out upon the sofa, her head on the arm, her feet dangling slightly off the other end, her legs curved.

Quinn smiled, pulling covers off of herself and patting the space between her legs and the back of the sofa. Rachel climbed in, her legs in the space but her body atop Quinn's. Shifting slightly they both fell into a comfortable position, Quinn's arm around Rachel's back and Rachel's head once again in the crook of that fuchsia smelling neck.

They pulled the covers on to themselves and Quinn reached up to turn the light off.

"Can you…can you keep it on?" Rachel asked and Quinn obliged.

If she had asked, Rachel would have told Quinn that she didn't want to be in the dark, but the truth was, she still wanted to be able to see Quinn, her hazel eyes and the protection they weaved around her.

"Before." Quinn announced into Rachel's hair. "You were going to ask something different before."

Rachel bit her lip and nodded slightly.

"Yes, I was going to ask if you were glad you came."

"Of course I am. I would have left if I wasn't." Quinn replied in a half awake voice and Rachel sighed.

There was a silence as Rachel fidgeted slightly to look at Quinn's face.

She lay, her blonde hair cascading half over her pale face, mouth only the tiniest amount open, her eyes shut as the light illuminated her features.

Rachel couldn't help but gasp at how beautiful Quinn was in that state of unawareness. Or at least, she thought the girl was unaware. She was proved wrong when the mouth closed slightly only to turn up into a smirk as one glorious hazel eye opened.

Quinn peeked at Rachel through that one eye and closed it again, before opening both of them and regarding her with an amused stare.

"What is it Rach?"

Rachel shook her head.

"Nothing."

She settled her head into the crook of Quinn's neck again and felt the blonde relax once more beneath her.

"Quinn…?" came a small voice a few minutes later.

"Mm?" a grumble replied.

"You…You wouldn't have come if you didn't want too would you?"

She looked up and Quinn looked thoughtful with her eyes closed and forehead creased.

"I mean, you're not here just to make me happy, or, or shut me up, right?"

Quinn's forehead went stiff for a second and Rachel felt the rest of her body join the action before a laugh tumbled from the slightly ajar mouth.

"Rachel, stop worrying your little head, it's too late in both the situation and the night itself."

"Fine." Rachel pretended to huff but smiled to herself as she heard the eloquent side of Quinn take charge. It must have been from those books she read so often.

"Quinn…do you like it when Santana calls you Q?"

She felt the blonde shrug.

"Sure, it's part of me. I mean, she's been calling me that since like, middle school."

Rachel closed her eyes and muzzled into the thin but warm neck before her.

"I think I'm going to call you Q-tip then."

Quinn's whole body vibrated with laughter.

"What?" she spluttered and Rachel sighed.

"It's a personal variation on a nickname you stated to favour." She couldn't help but be so verbose when she was embarrassed. "I believed it was endearing, pardon me for thinking so. I can call you Quinn or Q if you wish…"

"No…no." Quinn stopped her with a hand to the top of her head. "I like it, I do."

Rachel smiled, her flushed face calming down as Quinn's fingers sunk into her locks unconsciously.

After a few more minutes there was more laughter, but this time it was Rachel's shoulders moving uncontrollably.

"What now?" Quinn groaned, half amused, half asleep.

"I just thought, of how a Q-tip actually looks."

"So?" Quinn asked, opening her eyes to meet Rachel's again.

Rachel laughed as Quinn stared at her.

"The body is really skinny, like yours and then the tip is really big, like your hair when it sticks out all over the place, and it's kinda fluffy too…"

Rachel could tell she was tired, her chuckles becoming more laboured and long, deeper and less controllable.

"It's perfect to represent you." She added and Quinn rolled her eyes, letting her head fall back upon the arm of the chair.

"Rachel."

"Yes Q-tip?"

Rachel watched a smile flash itself in the corner of Quinn's eyes.

"Go to sleep."

Bowing her head, she settled her cheek against Quinn's chest and felt the breathing relax.

"Goodnight." She murmured and couldn't stay awake to catch the reply.

* * *

><p>"Tubbers."<p>

She didn't dare rear her head from the little cove that was her sleeping bliss.

"Juno."

Nope, those fingers that grappled at the sweet air of unconsciousness were not letting go.

"Preggo."

The haze was vanishing and Quinn gripped at it with desperation, she couldn't wake up, she was so warm and comfy…

"Q-tip?"

Her eyes flew open.

It had been soft and sweet compared to the harsh whispering of Santana. Rachel's tone was questioning, coaxing. Quinn could not help but slip out of her dreams of the girl just to be with her conscious in real life.

Standing over her were the shadows of Rachel and Santana, with bleary eyes Quinn regarded their half lit faces. Moving to sit up she checked the time on the wall…4.07, what the?

And then she saw it.

The panic on their faces, the fright, the apology, the protection. On their faces she saw that she had been woken up for something bad, not something bad, something horrible.

"Whutsgoinon?" she felt herself mumble as the two shared a glance.

"Something's happened Quinn…"

Santana silenced Rachel with a look as they both sat in the empty spaces provided by Quinn's sitting up.

"Your dad called Q." the darker girl all but whispered. "We had no choice but to tell him you were here."

Quinn sobered up completely, turning to stare hardly at her best friend.

"Why would you do that?" she tried to say, but it choked after the first word. Rachel layed a hand over Quinn's and Santana met her eyes with a meaningful look.

"It's your mom." The other girl managed to say before Rachel took over after her voice cracked.

"Your mom's sick Quinn." Rachel managed quietly. "She's in the hospital. Your father said it's really bad."

She turned to look at Rachel, the brown instantly bringing her down to earth as her mind span out of control.

"Is she, going to…" Quinn managed to say, swallowing. "Do they know if?"

"He says she wants to see you before it happens."

With that Quinn fell back into unconsciousness as her world span. The darkness enveloped her as all thoughts of regret and guilt washed over her.

* * *

><p>She walked down the hall of The Lima General Hospital, beside the large man that called himself her father.<p>

Russell Fabray was quite tall to Quinn, but he always had been. She was accustomed to him towering over her, lean muscle, drunk on power, scotch and the gods good word, most nights Quinn used to stay in her room.

"Most nights" meant every night, until she heard the shouting. Then she'd escape through the window to Santana's, or Brittany's. After the pregnancy though she'd arrive at Mercedes' house, the later the hour, the more comfort was spilled onto her by the girl.

But Russell wasn't drunk now. He looked oddly dishevelled as they walked in uneasy silence down the hall. Quinn couldn't ask the questions on her lips, because a lifetime of morals based upon the phrase; "speak only when spoken too" were brought forward by just the sound of her father's footsteps.

He stopped outside one of the rooms along the hallway, causing Quinn to nearly collide into his stony body.

"She's in there." He managed to say quietly and Quinn avoided his eyes.

It had been a short plane ride. Santana had offered to drive but that would have meant Rachel coming. As much as Quinn loved Rachel, dealing with the too-far-away-but-closer-than-discussed pulling game when she was trying to contemplate what the fuck was actually going on would have just screwed her brain even further.

So she instead took the plane next to the techy Korean guy and the little blonde girl drawing happy family pictures.

Happy family pictures that reminded her of her own family.

Happy family pictures that never really scratched below the surface into the dysfunctional and angst ridden dynamics of a typical Stepford family.

Russell had picked her up from the airport, no greeting, a beckon of the finger as she carried her own bag to his car. Cold leather and the smell of aftershave, scotch and stale air freshener as they silently made their way to the hospital.

And now Quinn stood outside the room, looking through the slat blinds as she saw the form of her mother.

Cancer. It was always cancer; this time of the oesophagus. It was uncommon for someone to have it so young. It was uncommon for someone to drink as much as Judy could every evening. But however _uncommon_ it was, there she lay, tubes going in, leading out, the sound of beeping and raspy breathing already evident through Quinn's ears as Russell opened the door pointedly.

She shunned eye contact as was proper, and stepped inside, letting him shut the door behind her surprisingly softly. Her deep breath echoed against the white walls.

"Hello?"

"Mom, mom it's me Qu-Quinn." She stuttered through a dry throat and wet eyes.

"Come…sit down…here where…I can see you." came the reply, Judy's voice cracking slightly.

She moved shakily across the floor and settled herself into the cold chair beside the bed. Looking down upon her mother she saw the woman's chest heave under laboured breathing, the wires moving with it.

"Mom…" she whispered, her heart breaking as Judy took her hand.

"Lucy." She spoke softly, looking into Quinn's eyes. "I know…you don't like it…but…It's who you'll always be to me…Lucy, Quinn…Fabray…my daughter."

The pauses in her speech where filled with rattling breath.

"Th-that's not because I am ashamed…of who you are now…I just want you…to remember where everything…be…beg...began." Judy smiled, her cheeks pressing against the wires going into her nose.

"Why didn't you call me when you first got sick?" Quinn asked, her hand clenching around her mother's.

"We…we didn't know where you were darling…" another choking sigh. "But…we know we could have found you…"

"So why?"

Judy looked up at Quinn, tears springing in both hazel pairs of eyes.

"I didn't think…you'd come."

Quinn let the gasp escape from her lips.

"Don't be shocked sweetie…it was a…a realistic…prediction…"

"I'm here now, doesn't that prove to you I would have been there then?" Quinn all but sobbed through her pain. "Why do you think I'm such a terrible daughter?"

Quinn watched Judy's eyes clench shut as she took a heavy breath.

"It wasn't to do with how good of a daughter you are Lucy…you are more than anyone could ask for…but it was everything to do with how good a parents were are…"

There was a pause as Quinn gnawed at her lip, the tears pooling themselves on the back of her arm as she leant against it to look at Judy.

"We never deserved your love or trust Lu...we hurt you so many times. We were never there for you when you…really…needed us…I didn't ex-expect you to-to feel the need to be there for me…because I never deserved…it."

"But I'm here now." Quinn repeated. "I'm here."

"I know darling…I know…"

Judy smiled, her eyes staring at Quinn as they glazed over with love.

"I'm glad your father got hold of you…I wanted to say…a few things…make a few things okay…before God…before God decided it was time for me…to go home."

Taking a deep breath, Judy squeezed Quinn's hand tighter and focused her attention on the words she was about to say, trying to control her breathing to make it take effect.

"Lucy, you are perfect. I am sorry we ever told you otherwise, you cannot understand how much I regret letting you go, both times I watched you walk away, knowing had I said so, you would be back the in a second." Judy took another breath. "I let you go though, it plagues me, and you must know that. But you are wonderful and I believe, when you left most recently, it made you who you are. I am just so sorry we could…not be…a part of that…"

Judy choked a little and Quinn steadied another hand on her cheek.

"Mom, be careful."

"I'm fine now you're here Lucy." The elder woman replied and Quinn tasted blood in her mouth as she continued the ministrations of her teeth against her bottom lip.

"We never stopped loving you, we just stopped showing it. That was the worst thing In my life I can say I have ever done."

Quinn shook her head and went to speak but a look from her mother silenced her.

"I have asked a lot of you…over the years…the largest request being for you to grow up so incredibly fast…especially after leaving you to fend on your own…but now…I will ask you to just do one more thing…"

The younger Fabray nodded, her teeth latching onto the last un butchered piece of lip in her mouth.

"You must go to your father…you must talk to him…"

"I'll say I'm sorry, I will mom. I'll say I'm sorry and I'll do anything." Quinn sobbed and Judy shook her head.

"No, you are to go to him and you are to tell him the truth; that you love him but you are not sorry. You are to go to him and talk, but it is your decision whether you let him do the speaking…he will do well to apologise and he knows that." Judy nodded to herself and Quinn sniffed. "All need from you is to say…that you'll talk to him."

"I will mom…I will I promise just please...don't give up."

"It is not giving up if the lord wills it Lucy." Judy replied tiredly and leant back into the pillows. "If you'll excuse me darling, it is not him calling but sleep…those lights make me drowsy."

Quinn swallowed more tears stood, squeezing her mother's hand before taking leave of the room.

Her father stood as she walked out, she offered him a calculating stare as he looked on with slightly open arms. Quinn could have spoken to him then, let him talk down to her and let him manipulate her. She didn't have the strength yet.

She instead walked away, knowing she would only once be brave enough to talk to him when it became true that what her mother had asked of her was truly her last request.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten:

_The things we did, said, thought in the past_

_They bury themselves beneath our hearts to last_

Quinn had been gone a while.

It had to have been terrible for her.

Rachel had offered too many times to go there and help her. Santana just knew it wouldn't do any good. That was why she and Rachel found themselves alone on the fourteenth of February.

"I'm just going to go for a run." Rachel called through the apartment.

Santana entered the kitchen and took in the sight of her, grey vest slit down the side over a black sports bra, black short shorts, white trainers. Her ear buds dangled around the back of her neck as the girl fixed her hair into a bun.

Santana knew she was good looking. She loved her, and she loved Quinn. And as much as people at college seemed to think they were dating, she'd never do that to Quinn, or Rachel, or herself.

Plus, the feeling left on this Valentine's day, by the absence of not just one, but two blonde's, was weighing heavily on her chest as she leant against the counter and nodded.

"Sure. Be safe."

Rachel chuckled, placed a light friendly kiss to her shoulder and jogged out of the kitchen, ear buds planted, singing already. Santana let her head fall to the cold surface of the counter, massaging her temples as she yawned. A shower would be good.

Moving like a wraith, as she often did these days, she drifted down the hallway to the bathroom. Pulling back the curtain she turned the handle and the shower began to run. She stripped slowly, the "LEBANESE" t-shirt falling to the floor, the blue shorts with yellow ducks on pooling around her ankles.

She didn't used to wear pj's. Brittany started to make her when the Pierces' kept walking in on their sleepovers. If Santana wasn't naked then they wouldn't suspect the obvious fact that their daughter was having sex with her.

Smiling to herself sadly, she kicked away the clothes and turned to step into the shower. She shivered against the water as memories' flooded back to her.

* * *

><p>"<em>Hurry up San, you know Dad want's us down before breakfast." Brittany's voice echoed into the ensuite bathroom.<em>

_They were sharing a hotel room together in the sunny palms of California. For them it was a holiday, for Mr Pierce it was a business trip. Mrs Pierce had to stay home to look after Britt's little sister Jamie and baby brother Samuel, so Mr Pierce had decided Santana and Brittany should come along._

_Sharing a room together had felt like bliss. Being able to stand on the balcony and kiss and touch, having their own room like a completely normal couple. Being able to make love and christen every surface in the room without the dreaded walking in of parents or siblings._

_Santana laughed as the water rained down upon her, the bathroom door open and letting the steam out of the white tiled room._

_She closed her eyes without an answer and began to run her fingers through her own hair. She stopped when her own hands were substituted for rather different, softer, paler ones._

"_I'm only in here so you can hurry up." Brittany lied, whispering into Santana's ear as she let her hands caress down the girls back._

_Santana shivered at the touch, leaning back into the taller girl's smooth naked torso before turning around to face her, their bodies slipping deliciously against one another's._

"_Is that so?" she asked and Brittany nodded. "Then you better make it quick."_

_Brittany bit her lip and smirked down at her as her hands travelled even further down Santana's back, cupping her ass and smoothing the skin to her thighs. She pulled the latina in for a deep kiss and raked her nails up the outside of the girls thighs, over the soft angle of her hips, the skin stretching over her ribs as Santana panted, up through the valley of her chest, around her neck and into her hair again._

_Santana couldn't take it anymore, pushing the blonde up against the tiles and attacking her mouth._

"_Fuck…" Brittany managed as she turned them over. "It's my turn San." She groaned and Santana's head fell back onto the wet tiles as she panted. Brittany kissed wetly down her body, the shower water a distant tease against skin as she hit Santana's navel with a flat tongued swipe of a kiss._

"_Please…not much…time…" Santana moaned as she bit down on the soft skin of her own bicep, leaving multiple, bruising teeth marks._

_A low resonant chuckled vibrated against her thigh as Brittany spread her legs apart farther._

_When she hit her with her lips, Santana shuddered, the perfection that was Brittany caressing her, pulling her in and out of pleasure and tense erotic impatience._

* * *

><p>It was then Santana felt the cold tiles against her back for real.<p>

She had slipped against them, thrown her naked body up at them as she fell out of her memory.

She noticed her own hand between her legs, the fresh bruises on her bicep. But most of all she realised what she was doing; she noticed the heart-breaking absence of blonde hair as she looked down and saw only her own hand where blonde hair had been so many times before.

Cursing herself, tears began to fall silently on her cheeks. Moving her hand away like it was a disease she turned the water up, hotter than she ever normally would. It burnt, washed away the shame, the guilt, the absence, the heartbreak. Washed away the filth from her hands that was herself.

Her skin began to redden, scald, as her knees gave way and she sank to the bottom of the shower, cradling her face in hands that still held the despising scent of herself. She hugged her knees as the scalding water rained hot and heavy down upon her.

She didn't really notice when the bathroom door opened.

"Santana, I hope you won't be long, it's very hot out today and I need to get rid of this terrible perspiration before…oh."

Santana didn't look up. She only felt when Rachel threw the folding glass door back and grabbed her upper arms.

"Fuck, Santana, that's boiling! Look at you!" Rachel all but shrieked, pulling her from the water and wrapping the girl in a towel, scalding her own forearms and hands as she did.

Santana couldn't stand up right; she nearly crumpled again to the cold tiled floor until Rachel's arms hooked around the sore skin of her waist.

"You stupid, stupid…" the brunette let out a torrent of chastise, worrying and fussing over her as she supported her into their shared bedroom.

She felt Rachel lay her out upon the bed. All modesty gone as Rachel helped towel dry her, blowing at particularly sore parts of reddened skin on her shoulders and neck to cool her down.

When she was done, Santana sat up slowly, taking in the sight of Rachel post-run.

Her hair was dishevelled, worry etched onto her face, neck and chest sweaty. Santana didn't care; she bowed her head into the brunette's neck and sobbed.

"Ssh, Tana it'll be okay." Rachel soothed her hair, running her fingers over the all but burnt scalp.

There was a silence as Santana composed herself.

"Do you want to talk about it love?" the smaller girl asked above Santana's head and the raven hair shook with denial.

"No, just, just hold me."

"I will, I'll be right here. Forever." Rachel whispered sweetly into the hair and Santana dragged her arms around the girl's waist, holding that sure body, cupping it to her. The one person Santana thought she had never wanted to know, becoming the only person who knew Santana's true self.

* * *

><p>She sat alone at her desk in her old room that Valentine's day, her father downstairs, her mother in the hospital alone before they arrived to visit for the day.<p>

Quinn wondered what would have happened if she were still in New York, with Rachel.

Would she have done something?

Life had this funny way of pushing and pulling you around like a rollercoaster, fate was it's accelerant, love and friendship it's bars of safety, the twists and turns of it the angst and adrenaline and then there was the brake.

_Death._

She knew her mother was hurtling further towards it every day.

Quinn wondered what would have happened if she were still in New York, with Rachel.

She would have done something.

What, she didn't know, but seeing as she was over five hundred miles from her real home, she never would get the chance to find out either.

* * *

><p>"What. Is that?" Santana frowned as Rachel backed into the apartment, two plastic bags bursting at the seams.<p>

"It's a good job, we know, Harley." Rachel responded, heaving the bags onto the kitchen counter as Santana closed the front door and followed.

"No, we don't know her, _you_ flirted with her every day in Literature!" the raven haired girl replied as Rachel began unpacking the bags.

"Ah, but it makes her dad get us cheap wine…" the diva replied in a singsong voice, pulling a bottle from a bag and holding it up to Santana's face.

"Rachel…there's like, five bottles and a box in here!" Santana exclaimed as she helped unpack the red, white and rose wine onto the counter. Looking at it already made her feel woozy in the head.

"We're not drinking it all tonight, are we?"

Rachel turned and laughed.

"Of course not. But I'm surprised you're half chickening already, I thought you were from Lima Heights, isn't that where the badasses live Tan?"

Santana rolled her eyes and pointed her finger.

"That's Lima Heights _Adjacent_ to you Pipes."

"Pipes?"

"Yeah, like what the leprechauns play." Santana replied, her hands falling to her hips and her eyebrow arching. They both fell about laughing before Rachel wiped her eyes on the back of her hand and screwed the plastic bags up together.

"I'm choosing to take it as a compliment on my excellent singing range rather than an insult to my height."

"Shut up and drink." Santana replied, prizing open the box of rose as Rachel handed her two large glasses.

"Fill it." Rachel grinned and Santana rolled her eyes.

"That's what she said." They both chorused and fell about laughing again.

An hour and a half later and the both of them were sitting on the couch, a romantic comedy on the television as they drank themselves into oblivion, through various snack food items at the TV and laughed until they couldn't breathe.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod…" Rachel clutched at her chest as Santana snorted when they paused it at a random spot, Hugh Grant halfway through a dance routine of pelvis thrusting.

"I need to pee…" the little brunette fell from the sofa and stumbled her way to the bathroom as Santana turned to her glass of wine. She'd lost count beyond the third glass and had no idea how far she had gotten.

The vest she had worn so as not to aggravate the sore skin from her own time in the bathroom that morning was tight, exposing just as much skin as the bikini shorts she wore on the bottom for the same reason.

As she sipped she looked down upon the teeth marks on the skin of her bicep. The half-moon crescents wound their way across her arm, purple and red, angry and deep. There, in the mark closest to her elbow she noticed she had drawn a few pinpricks of blood.

She closed her eyes and she could smell the wet skin and fragrant perfume of Brittany, hear the sound of the shower.

It wasn't the sound of the shower, it was the plumbing as Rachel flushed the toilet, coming giggling from the bathroom, down the hallway and wiping her wet hands upon a paper towel before throwing it at the bin, she missed, this made her giggle more.

The brunette walked further into the living room, flopping down onto the sofa. She saw Santana, head upon her vertical forearm, chin upon her bicep, eyes closed.

"Santana…" Rachel hiccoughed and the other girl's eyes opened, wetly turning to look at her.

They stayed locked in a stare for a second before Santana dropped her arm and drained her glass, setting it on the table with a _clink_ before falling back into the cushions.

"I fucked myself in the shower today."

It was whispered just above the noise of Rachel's movement. The diva faltered on her way to pour out more wine into their glasses. She turned and chuckled a little.

"Was it good?" came the reply and Santana regarded her with a stare that spoke dark amusement and contemplation before answering.

"No."

"So why are you telling me?" Rachel asked frowning. "I thought you were going to share your technique, but I don't want your wisdom if it wasn't good…"

"I didn't finish." Came another admission.

"Oh, why not?"

"I was ashamed." Santana replied with a crack in her voice.

Rachel knew Santana was a very sexual being, she always had been. Though both had had no love interests or partners since they met in New York City, Rachel was accustomed to calling or knocking for the girl during an intimate time. So Rachel was pretty sure Santana knew how to get her own things done, everyone did right?

That was why Rachel was surprised to hear the shame and pain in her best friend's voice, and also the girls admission to it being far from satisfactory was almost worrying.

"You shouldn't be worried I'm going to judge you Santana. Everyone deserves their right to let out tension. Though I'm surprised you didn't find climax in your own way, you usually do."

It was because they were both drunk that Rachel's reply didn't startle or make anything awkward. It probably wouldn't have done if they were sober, but their intoxication just made the frank talking easier than it could ever be. Santana also disregarded the fact that Rachel knew how well she was able to get herself off.

"It wasn't about that, it's about what I was thinking."

Rachel nodded and Santana turned to look at her.

"What were you thinking then?" she asked. "Not that you have to answer I think I kn…"

"Brittany."

Silence fell upon them as they stared at each other.

"Brittany." Santana repeated her voice cracking. "It's always fucking Brittany, never anyone else. Sometimes when I'm really tired and I get up in the middle of the night to pee, I see Q on the sofa. The blonde hair…I have to stop myself going in there and checking it's her, 'cause everything I do is somehow linked with Brittany."

Rachel just listened, patting the girls shoulder absently as she coaxed her to drink more wine.

"She won't get out of my head." Santana all but whispered after she took a sip of wine.

"So you gave yourself a release? What of it? Fucking oneself isn't a crime." The little brunette shrugged in reason and Santana's jaw went stony.

"No. But it was either that or stringing myself up with the shower curtain."

Both girls' breath faltered as they took that statement in. They both knew Santana's admission at contemplating ending it with a noose round her neck, was not due to her sexual frustration or how much alcohol they had consumed at all.

It had been coming a while, since Quinn moved in, since before that actually.

Santana hadn't really realized she was actually in a depression, she just thought she was moping and being sad, but Rachel had noticed. There were moments when the girl could hardly speak at all, weekends when she wouldn't leave the apartment, sometimes even her bed.

She was thinner than before, where Quinn had become bulkier and even muscled around her shoulders since she moved to New York, there was less of Santana, both physically and in spirit.

"I didn't know you were in to bondage."

Rachel knew after that statement she sounded tactless. But after they stared hardly at each other for a minute, she saw the crack in Santana's stony expression. The loud and resonant giggles and snorts that came out were worth the fact that Rachel seemed to have disregarded Santana's serious problem as nothing but a joke.

Of course she hadn't, as usual when something took her by surprise she filed it away for future reference. Studying the girl as the tension of their former conversation fell again upon them, she wiggled her way into her arms.

"Tan, you don't have to be ashamed…of anything; giving yourself an orgasm, wanting to end it all, your feelings, even breaking the law…anything. Tan I mean it, you can tell me. I'll be there. I don't think I could leave."

Santana smiled a sad smirk.

"I wish you better luck for next time though." Rachel winked and Santana blushed a little. "I'm pretty sure this was just one time of inefficiency but I suppose I won't mind terribly if you think of me while you shower in the future."

They burst out laughing at the incredulous idea before falling into each other's drunken embrace again. The mood lightened after that as Santana dropped a small kiss to the brunette's forehead before resuming the movie.

They watched and laughed at the heroes' antics and heroines dilemmas that played out on the screen, forgetting their own dramas and troubles. When it finished, Rachel noticed Santana was asleep at the other end of the sofa. Smiling to herself, she pulled the blanket from the back of the sofa where Quinn kept it and draped it over her.

She stood, draining the last of their third bottle of wine, stumbling a bit as she had a stunning idea.

* * *

><p>Quinn shook her head to clear it as she reached over to stop the buzzing.<p>

Looking at the caller ID she groaned. Why is it Rachel had to be a night owl, or rather, had to always be awake? She couldn't help but smile to herself as she clicked the green button, revelling when she heard the sound of breathing on the other side of the phone.

"Rach?" she asked tentatively and rolled her eyes when a chuckle came back. Rachel seemed to have taken advantage of her connection through her college friend Harley. Quinn felt a jealous tug as she remembered Rachel flirting with the other girl.

"Q-tip!" came the reply, like a drunken father shouting out at his champion son.

"Rachel, it's half one, what are you doing up?"

"Halfwon? Oh shizaahaha. I was gonna wishew happy…valen-hic- tinesday." Rachel slurred.

"Sorryzabit late now." She added and Quinn fought back a chuckle. The girl was terribly adorable when drunk. Mind, she was terribly adorably all the time.

"It's okay, happy valentine's day to you too Rach." Quinn replied, falling back upon the bed, her free hand moving to twist thoughtfully in her own hair. "What are you up to?"

Rachel chuckled and told herself to be quiet, before sounding like she was moving to a different room.

"Tan's sleep." She said and she heard her tell herself to be quiet as something crashed.

"Be careful, you're drunk!" Quinn chastised and heard a thump.

"I know, I got her drunk too!"

"I'm proud of you." Quinn deadpanned. "What did you both need to get drunk for?" She inquired, thinking about their safety and Santana's habit of not locking the door.

"Oh, I came in from runnin' 'smorning and she was in the shower. It was really hot and I was rearrly worried. Then I helped her get out before she burnt and then I went out while she was sleeping, she sleeps a lot you know, and I bought wine 'cause she was sad 'bout Brittany." Rachel rambled as Quinn listened, continuing to twist her hair in her fingers.

"Oh right."

"And, careful when you go shower here next." Rachel tried to sound serious. "Cause Santana fucked herself in there and she didn't finish, I told her she's usually more efficient at the whole self-pleasure thing, but she didn't finish so if you showerin' and if she comes in, get fuck out the way 'cause she needs to get rid of her tension."

Quinn froze with both amusement and awkward horror.

"Umm, Rach. I don't think you were supposed to tell me that."

"S'cool, everyone does it! I bet you do, I bet you do it when you're alone on the sofa, but that's totally not weird and it's okay 'cause I think I might have caught you once, but I'm not sure 'cause I didn't wanna weird you out like I was watching, which I wasn't, but everybody sits on the sofa right and it's gonna happen…"

"Rachel…" Quinn bit her lip thinking about it, the awkward tension in her chest not drawing any attention away from the ache between her thighs. Before she knew it she had fisted her own hand in her hair and screwed her eyes shut, trying to steer the conversation away from something as intimate as that.

"Don't be ashamed Q-tip, I'm pretty sure I've said your name once or twice."

Quinn sat up as she choked on her own tongue.

"Q-tip? Are you okay, sorry, wine does this thing to me, my jaw comes loose…haha, can you imagine if it actually made my jaw fall off, that would be sooo weird but highly improbable. Kinda like those comics Samuel used to read when I was doing my solo's in Glee. Hey, was he ignoring me? Maybe I should call him, that was really rude of him!"

Rachel carried on as Quinn tried to come to terms with the current situation.

So, Rachel was very clearly talking about self-pleasure. She had very clearly stated she had caught Quinn a couple of times (the blonde made a note be more careful).

And then she had gone on to tell her she said her name? The ache worsened and Quinn fell back with a thud upon her mattress, literally tearing her own hair out with her free hand, scratching the back of the phone pressed to her ear with the other.

"Berry." She managed to gush out before the ranting went too far.

"Oh I'm sorry Quinn. I actually rang to tell you something."

"You already told me Happy Valentine's day." Quinn sighed thankful for the diversion.

"No, I wanted to tell you this…"

"Rachel?"

Quinn heard the rustling and then nearly threw the phone across the room wincing as Rachel's voice called loudly through the phone and into her skull.

"I! Love! You! Q-tip!" she shouted down the phone before giggling and telling herself to be quiet again.

"God, Rachel. You're so drunk!" Quinn groaned as she put the phone back to her ear.

"You said that outside Santana's that time, 'cept it was you who was drunk. And it was after you nearly kissed me, I was like, not confused but I was kinda pissed it didn't happen and I don't know why, maybe 'cause I was drunk too, I'm not sure. ..Hey!" Rachel trailed off as Quinn begged her to stop talking about New Year's Eve.

She felt the breath tingle on her face again and the cool night air, the scent of cedar and iris that was Rachel all over.

"What?" she asked the girl as Rachel groaned.

"You didn't say it back."

Quinn was confused for a second before realizing.

"Oh, god, Rachel don't be..." she began but Rachel cut over her.

"Do you not love me?"

"It's not that, it's, you're drunk and this is weird and you'll regret this in the morning…"

"I jussmeant as friends Q-tip."

"I know, I know…I" Quinn tried to say but was interrupted.

"Gay Panic! Gay Panic! You're so gay, it's really funny…"

"Rachel…"

"Nope, hanging up, hanging up!" came the distant reply as Rachel pulled the phone from her ear and cut off the call.

Quinn huffed out a sigh and tried to sink back into the pillows, let the bed swallow her.

Rachel's voice always left a dull ache in the pit of her stomach and a tingling in her core, but after that conversation? Quinn was frustrated with herself, for letting Rachel talk so openly about their self-sex lives. Then she had of course let Rachel just hang up on her without saying anything else…

She should call her back.

Just as she thought that though, her phone chirruped to inform her of a text received.

**1:58 Rach- **_It's oaky Q=tip! I know oyu love meae! Evn if you don t want to sayit _

Quinn chuckled and typed a quick reply.

**2:02 You- **Go to sleep you tiny hobbit, no more wine okay? Little drunkard.

With that Quinn laughed again, turning her phone off and setting it down upon the bedside table, switching the lamp off and moving into a more comfortable position beneath the covers.

She tried to sleep through the tingling ache in her abdomen and core.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven:

_Our paths were destined to cross always_

_However long, weeks years or days_

"You guys don't need to do this you know."

Quinn watched as Santana threw Rachel's last suitcase into the back of the car, the little brunette standing behind Quinn as she talked to her father's on the phone.

"Please Q, little Large-Lungs over there wouldn't dare let you go without a date." The girl replied, rolling her eyes as she slammed the boot closed. "Besides, I'm coming for the free food."

The blonde chuckled along with her before trailing off into a small thoughtful silence.

Judy Fabray had passed not long after Quinn first reconnected with her parents. It was quick, decidedly painless; she was carried through a deep sleep and unfortunately didn't awake on the other side. To say Russell was devastated would have been a peculiar observation.

He was upset, that much was evident in the way he had actually been trying to communicate with his daughter again. The way in which he conveyed his grief, in true style of most other emotions he possessed, was through deliberate silence and passive features. He addressed most people shortly and curtly, Quinn would sometimes benefit in the respect of receiving a delicately worded and thoughtful statement or query, but otherwise, Russell Fabray had become even more of a resolute stone.

Quinn was knocked from her reverie when small tanned arms wound around her waist.

"I resent these nicknames Tan, are they supposed to be terms of affection?" Rachel whined as she just managed to rest her chin over Quinn's shoulder. Santana and Quinn exchanged eyebrow twitches and small smirks before the darker girl chuckled.

"What would you rather? Pipes or large-lungs?" Quinn rolled her eyes as Santana cocked a hip and rested a hand upon it.

"Neither." Rachel replied defiantly. "I choose neither; you can't expect me to pick a proffered nickname from two horrible references."

Santana's smirk widened into a smile and Quinn resisted the urge to press her palm to her forehead in exasperation.

"Pick one, or I make up even worse ones."

Quinn tensed when she felt a huff of exasperated Rachel Berry breath hit the back of her neck.

"Tan…" Rachel whined again but silenced herself when Santana inclined her head.

Another huff of breath and Quinn began to think passing out was a more preferable option to this sensory overload.

"Fine!" Rachel growled affectionately, removing her arms from Quinn's waist and stepping around her to come closer to Santana. She offered her own defiant stance, fist clenched, and the other hand pointing up at the girl.

"Pipes. And that's only because large-lungs isn't remotely affectionate at all, it sounds marginally annoying to be frank…" the little brunette narrowed her eyes and Santana reached out, ruffling her neat hair.

"Marginally annoying, Rachel. Why do you think it suits you so well?" she chuckled and Quinn let out a peal of laughter at the indignant look on Rachel's face, as Santana moved to get into the driver's side of the car.

"Santana!" Rachel tried to call through the glass. "You won't be calling me that because…oh, never mind." She gave up, letting her palms hit her thighs as Santana mimed not hearing the girl through the windshield.

Quinn cast her chin to the sky in amused exasperation before moving to grasp Rachel's arm.

"Come on, she's just fucking around." She pulled the other girl to the side of the car and opened the back door.

"You're not riding in the front?" Rachel asked as Quinn slipped into the other side of the car beside her in the back seat. The blonde shrugged and Santana eyed them in the rear view mirror before starting the car and revving the engine.

"Right, let's get this show on the ro…oh for fuck sake Fabray!" Santana groaned turning in her seat as Quinn fumbled with the lighter, holding a cigarette between her lips.

"What?" she asked innocently as she removed it from her mouth before sighing. "I'm just a little stressed, okay?" she added and Santana arched an eyebrow before waving her hand.

"Fine, just, open the goddamn window, okay?" she dismissed and turned back to the steering wheel.

Quinn unwound the window down and Santana pulled out of the lot, taking the road outbound of New York as Rachel watched Quinn inhale and exhale the smoke.

"You think its dirty right?" Quinn winced as Rachel sighed when she threw the nub of the cigarette out of the window.

The blonde turned to see Rachel staring at her hands pointedly, as though she were trying to steady herself. The other girl took a deep breath and looked up at her.

"No, I guess. I find it ironic, the whole thing with your mom and…sorry. I shouldn't have…"

"Rach." Quinn reached out and placed a hand on the back of her head, her fingers unconsciously burying themselves into the long locks. Rachel seemed to lean into her touch and Quinn held the silence for a second longer before continuing.

"Mentioning her isn't going to bring her back, that's true. But it's not going to make her any deader, okay? Her funeral is on Sunday, then it's over, done. Got it?"

Rachel nodded.

"I meant it. When I said you guys really didn't have to come." Quinn added quietly as she let her hand fall to Rachel's lap, clasping a small hand in her own palm.

The owner of the hand just shrugged and leant into Quinn's shoulder, resting her chin on the side of her arm. Quinn sighed and wound up the window, running a hand through her hair. She made a mental not to get it cut before the funeral.

Quinn hadn't expected an invite; she was ready to sink back into the state of non-existence between herself and her father. She had given it a week after her mother had actually passed before Russell went back to ignoring her.

Contrary to her assumption though, he had talked about the event and asked her opinion on mostly everything. Quinn figured that it was because her sister wouldn't be able to make it back from her new job in L.A to attend the funeral and was going to pay her respects the following weekend but it seemed her father was actually really interested in what she believed her mother would have preferred.

They drove for hours, getting caught in traffic, Quinn wove in and out of sleep, conscious nightmares of what was to come, sweet dreams of bliss and brunette hair, melodic voices keeping the angst at bay as she laid her head against the window.

She was vaguely aware that Rachel had finally passed her driving test when Santana and the smaller girl traded places. Santana didn't desire the back seat though, and sat in the passenger side, keeping Rachel quiet company as they tried to let Quinn relax.

It was dark when they finally arrived in front of the large Fabray house.

"Sorry Q-tip." Rachel chuckled as she opened the door and caught her as she all but fell out of the car.

"Swasn'tyourfault." Quinn mumbled as she pulled herself up and shook off her reverie. She looked up at the house and sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"The bed at my father's is still very much obtainable." Rachel whispered as Santana popped the lock on the boot and dodged it as it swung open.

Quinn turned and looked down at her with a sad smile.

"Thanks Rach, but. I owe it to my dad to keep him company."

"You don't owe him shi…" Santana stopped her angry tirade before it went too far after Rachel shot a look her way. She mimed zipping her lips and busied herself pulling Quinn's suitcase from underneath Rachel's paraphernalia of weekend bags and toiletries.

"The offer still stands Quinn." Rachel rested a cautious hand upon the blonde's cheek as she peered through her fringe up at the taller girl. "If anything happens, he starts giving you a hard time or you feel lonely or…"

"If there's a spider on your wall he won't kill, god forbid even if you get scared of the dark!" Santana jested but fell silent when Rachel gave her another look.

"Just, you know where I am, where the both of us are." Rachel finished as Quinn felt the girl's thumb trace her cheekbone swiftly before falling away from her face.

Quinn caught the hand before it completely moved away and pressed her lips to the soft skin on the inside of Rachel's wrist, watching the girl's eyes as their lids fluttered but otherwise kept an intense stare into her own.

"Thank you."

Santana cleared her throat and Quinn let the hand drop, sending a small smirk to Rachel before turning and moving to the Latina.

"Don't worry; I won't be calling you at midnight to kill anything crawling along my wall, unless it's that stripper you hired that one time…"

Santana rolled her eyes as Rachel frowned.

"What stripper?" came a confused voice and Quinn turned as Santana chuckled.

"She's kidding Pipes." Santana smirked and turned back to Quinn.

"Listen Tubbers, I know you don't want me to say this but I'm gonna. Thing is, preacher man up there hasn't changed just cause he's missing your older clone, hmmkay? Now, I know exactly what the goings on have been in that house since we were knee high, he starts that shit again? Tell him I'm taller these days, and that fingernail scar on his thigh could be a lot higher, right?"

Quinn arched an eyebrow and Santana put her hands on her hips.

"Jusssaying." She clicked her tongue and Quinn laughed, patting her on the shoulder.

"Down girl, down. What a great guard dog you've turned out to be." She shared a chuckled with the girl before bending to sling her bag strap over her now broad shoulders. She thanked god for those morning sprints around the block and those Saturday weight sessions.

Rachel moved to Santana's side and Quinn noted the way their hands slipped together in silent and comforting support. She sighed mentally at the gesture and how the closeness between them made her heart warm.

Sending them a quick sad smile, she made her way up the path towards the house, pausing at the door to turn and see her best friends again before they disappeared. She bit her lip when she saw Rachel's face upon Santana's shoulder and a comforting hand stroking her back. With her free hand Santana made a gesture in the air, waving Quinn away.

She nodded and quietly slipped the key from her pocket. She had been shocked when her father had cut it for her after discarding her other key when he kicked her out.

Russell had moved back in to their shared family house when Judy had fallen sick, he had since been staying there, even after his late wife's death. It made Quinn's skin crawl to think of him being in their room without that familiar dash of blonde hair and scent of floral perfume, but such was life after a close one's death was it not?

"I didn't expect you to be this late."

Quinn jumped so high she expected to hit her head on the ceiling and leave her skin behind. The door fell shut as she turned to inspect the dark hallway. The voice was deep, unmistakeably Russell-like tones resonating against the dark laminate floor.

"Sorry." She managed to stutter.

He nodded in the moonlight coming through the window in the door.

"I left your bedding in the basket on the landing, make sure you change it properly before you sleep." He replied softly before nodding and turning to walk down the hall.

Quinn let out a breath as he disappeared around the corner. At least there were only a few days to go until she cut herself off from the man once and for all. She had done what her mother had asked, tried to at least. That was all she could do, it was all her father (and admittedly her bitter conscience) would let her do.

She turned and stared at the front door, pleading for it to convince her she could just walk right back out of it.

* * *

><p>"Hey, no Tana that's heavy!"<p>

Santana chuckled as she lugged all four of Rachel's bags up through the hallway of her father's house and into her old bedroom.

"No probs." She shrugged as she dropped the luggage beside the bed in her room.

Taking in a breath she surveyed Rachel's room for the first time in her life. Puck had mentioned it was yellow before, but she had expected it to be gaudy and bright.

It was pale, though a lot of the spare wall space was filled with Broadway posters and other fanatical visuals. It wasn't actually that bad.

She smiled when Rachel huffed in disapproval as she moved in through the door.

Santana dropped herself down upon the bed, catching herself from falling off again when she didn't realize how bouncy it was.

"Holy fuck Pipes, what is your mattress made of, Tigger's tail?"

Santana reset herself down on the bed as Rachel sniggered, dropping her hand luggage beside her other bags.

"What?" she scowled at the brunette as she continued to chuckle.

"Tigger? Really?"

Santana sniffed and shrugged in disdain at the comment.

"Whatever, don't tell me you didn't have an affinity for Piglet."

Rachel coughed and moved to organize a few things on her desk.

"Actually I…I felt the most familiarity with Rabbit…as it were." She all but whispered, Santana noticing her tuck her hair behind her ears nervously as she nodded.

"Makes sense." She shrugged and Rachel turned around, before they both burst out laughing.

When it fizzles out they find themselves staring at each other for a while.

"What are you thinking?" she asked Rachel quietly as the other girl moved to the bed, sitting down next to her.

Rachel opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the sound of knocking.

They looked at each other and frowned.

"Did you hear that?" Rachel whispered and Santana nodded, frowning.

It sounded again, louder this time, causing Rachel to jump. She flinched and Santana's heart leapt at the sudden move.

"Fucking…Rach." She groaned quietly, holding her chest as she peered around the girl towards the open bedroom door, the shadows of the hallway shifting restlessly back at her.

"Wait, it's late, I expect they'll go away." The brunette whispered and Santana nodded, steadying her breathing as they waited in silence.

Just when they thought the mysterious visitor had gone away, there was another knock. It was tentative this time, almost as though they were losing hope.

Santana's nerves twitched, becoming irritated. She stood from the bed and moved across the room, shrugging off Rachel's hand.

"What are you…Tana!" Rachel all but squealed as Santana turned.

"I'm gonna give this jackass a piece of my mind, it's like fricking eleven thirty, everyone knows after nine o clock the only reason you go round someone's house is for a party or a booty call." She shrugged and Rachel smiled in spite of herself.

"You would know." She muttered and Santana flipped her the bird before disappearing out of the door. Rachel moved from the bed to lean out into the landing hallway, watching Santana's shadow move through the darkness.

"Just be quiet, don't wake my dad's up when you dig the grave!" Rachel whispered and she heard a light chuckle join the sound of creaking stairs.

Santana padded down the hallway, cracking her knuckles as she saw the shadow thrown up against the porch. She approached the door and took a deep breath, slinging the latch across and opening the door.

She gasped as she just caught Quinn, turning and moving to walk away with her bag on her shoulder.

"Q!" Santana gasped causing the blonde to stop. She unlatched the door and opened it wide.

"Santana?" Quinn replied, turning and seeing her in the doorway, hugging her stomach as she shifted her bag.

"What are you doing here?" they asked each other and chuckled a little before Santana replied.

"I was just keeping Pipes company. She was acting kinda sad, probs 'cause she won't be able to wrap her koala like arms around you tonight."

Santana caught the small sad smile on Quinn's lips and sighed.

"I guess you're here for the same reason, right?"

Quinn swallowed and looked up.

"I can't stay in that house any longer Santana. I just can't. It's like…" Santana stopped her with a dark tan hand.

"Save it. I know what it's like." She shrugged, knowing what Quinn meant.

She sighed and turned, pulling her jacket from the hooks behind the door.

"I was just leaving anyway…"

She stepped out, slipping in to the clothing. She left the door open as she passed Quinn on the front path. The blonde turned and watched her.

"Wait, I'm sure Rach wouldn't mind if you stayed too."

Santana laughed, waving her hand.

"Three in the bed, what would the little one say?" she raised and eyebrows and smirked. "Go and settle in. The more time you spend out here, the less time you get to spend watching her sleep… you creep."

With that, Santana shoved her hands in her pockets and walked down the path towards her car, Quinn finally moving towards the door as she got in and shut the door. She started the engine and sighed, pulling out into the road and driving to the bed in the basement of her family's house, and bed sheets that still, after all this time, and many washes, smelt like a certain blonde.

"Who was it?" Rachel as she heard the front door shut and the stairs creaking again.

"Just some idiot wanting a bed for the night." Came the reply and Rachel nearly fell off the bed.

"Quinn!" she gasped, moving towards her and taking her bags, turning her and checking over her.

"What happened, did something happen? Are you hurt, was he giving you a hard time? Good lord did _he_ hurt you? I swear to god Quinn if…"

She was silenced by smooth, pale hands coming down on her shoulders and the small smile on perfect lips just in front of her.

"Rach." The smoky voice chuckled as she moved away and stacked her bags more appropriately next to Rachel's and stretched. Rachel squirmed at the small expanse of pale flesh that was exposed of the girl's navel when she did so. She backed up and sat back down on her space on the bed.

"So, why are you here? Not that I don't want you here, which I do, but I mean you don't have to be here, I just…"

"Oh my god."

Rachel was stopped when Quinn's hand clamped down on her mouth as the blonde moved to sit down next to her.

"You." She smiled very close to Rachel's face. "Need to stop asking people questions and then answering them yourself."

Rachel was only half listening. The last time she'd been _this_ close to Quinn's face was that time on New Year's eve. Okay, so maybe she had been pretty close that time they danced together, and whenever they fell asleep on the couch together, but this time, Quinn's undivided attention was on her. There was nothing stopping each other from looking deeply in to one another's eyes.

Well, until Quinn smiled sadly and dropped her hand from Rachel's mouth, sighing dejectedly and kicking her shoes off.

Rachel swallowed and crossed her legs, turning to look at her companion more closely.

"Are you going to answer my question?" she asked quietly and saw Quinn arch an eyebrow at her.

"Are you going to let me?"

She rolled her eyes and Quinn nodded, biting her lip.

"I got scared."

She frowned and looked at the blonde before her.

"Of what?"

"I don't know. I just felt it in my chest; I couldn't sleep in that bed knowing he was alone in his. It was okay when she was alive; there was a chance she'd be coming home. Now she's gone and, it's just going to be him. No one to balance him out, as much as I hate what he did to our family, I feel as though me being there is intruding. If I was him, I'd want a while to be able to get used to the idea that there would be a space next to me for the rest of my life."

"But, I thought you said they divorced a while back."

"Yes, for like seven months. But that amount of time against the rest of your life? It's nothing."

Rachel heard the strain in Quinn's voice and pulled her into her arms. They stayed like that for a while; Quinn's body nestled in Rachel's loving and deceptively strong arms.

"Come on." Rachel coaxed quietly as she lifted Quinn's head with a finger, smiling what she hoped was a caring smile at the girl.

Quinn smiled a small smile back and leaned back to sit up properly. Rachel stood, switched the bedside light on and moved to turn the main light off. When she turned she saw Quinn stumbling around, trying to open her bag to retrieve her pj's.

"Hey." Rachel said softly, grabbing the blonde's upper arm as she nearly fell over her own suitcase.

"Come, I'll let you borrow some of mine." She smiled and Quinn grimaced weakly back as she stubbed her foot on her suitcase.

Rachel took Quinn to her walk in closet and gestured to the shelves.

"Pick anything."

She herself opted for her grey sweats and a white vest top, ignoring the urge to turn and catch sight of more pale skin than she could handle as she toyed with the strings of the sweats. When she was pretty sure Quinn had finished she turned to look at her.

Swallowing her words (or rather groans) of appreciation, she took in the site of the blonde girl wearing her tiny black shorts and a loose fitting white top with the gold star on it. The top fell over one of her creamy shoulder's revealing a pink bra strap, unable to stop herself Rachel frowned.

"You wear your bra to bed?" she inquired and Quinn looked at her shoulder, blushing.

"Um I…not usually but…when I stay at someone's house…"

"You don't, wear it all the time when we're at home do you?" she asked, probing lightly for fear of going too far.

Something inside both girls quivered at that. It wasn't something they'd fully realized yet; that they had a home with each other. Granted, Santana was always present too, but they had always just been _living together_. Rachel had referred to it as home and Quinn's heart had melted at that statement, when _we're_, meaning Rachel and herself, are at _home_.

"No, not always, only when I think Santana's left her jacket on the door and you're gonna come creeping to check if I'm a monster." Quinn's blush deepened as Rachel nodded, both smirking.

"Well." Rachel drew herself up to her full height and nodded to herself. "Don't make yourself uncomfortable on my account." She nudged her bra on the floor with her foot, succeeding in her quest to make Quinn chuckle, her skin fizzing at the sound.

"Feminism it is then." Quinn sighed elated and reached up the back of her top, Rachel looked away and when she turned back Quinn was dropped her pink bra to the floor next to Rachel's own white one.

"I can burn it if you like." Rachel offered and they both burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry, I'm a mess." Quinn replied in a whisper as the laughing bubbled out.

Rachel shook her head as the blonde avoided her eyes, favouring to look at the floor as she tucked her blonde mid-length locks behind her ears.

"No. You're perfect." She replied and they looked at each other quickly before looking away, recognizing the strange in look in the other's eye as the same feeling in their hearts. Rachel led the way back into the bedroom, leaving their previous clothes piled on the floor of her closet in a less than innocent kind of way.

Rachel pulled back the covers and slipped in first, moving to lie against the headboard. She looked up and patted the bed, just like Quinn had that night she found her apartment burgled. The blonde climbed upon the bed and crawled haphazardly into Rachel's arms, lying on her stomach.

The role reversal of the situation seemed to balance out the atmosphere in the room. Quinn muzzled her forehead in to Rachel's neck and the brunette all but sighed at the feeling of blonde hair tickling the column of her throat. She absently began to run her fingers through it, feeling Quinn's elated sigh. Quinn's hand's snaked its way over Rachel's navel as she slung her arm habitually over the girl's hip, Rachel leaning her head back on the board, taking in the warmth of the blonde's body.

Rachel was undeniably rather on the short side, so it didn't surprise her that being farther up the bed than Quinn, meant that the brunette's legs stopped shorter than when they usually lay next to each other. Both girls noticed this with a chuckle when Quinn shuffled and her bare knee fell over Rachel's shin.

"G'night Rachel." Quinn managed to yawn from her space at Rachel's collarbone. Rachel ran her fingers through golden hair again and smiled.

"Sleep tight Q-Tip." She whispered and leant her head back, her eyes closing, knowing she would pay for the awkward position with severe neck pains the next morning.

She couldn't find it in herself to care.


End file.
